Profession of a Guardian
by DarthVandola
Summary: The life of Minerva McGonagall from 1930-1972 is one of lies, war, torture, death, friendship, love, promises and regret as her mother's sinful determination to prevent Minerva from discovering her family's past and the war against Grindelwald forever sets the chain of future events in motion. Includes Rolanda, Poppy, Pomona, Augusta and Galatea Merrythought.
1. Prologue

**Summary: The life of Minerva McGonagall from 1930-1972 is one of lies, war, torture, death, friendship, love, promises and regret as her mother's sinful determination to prevent Minerva from discovering her family's past and the war against Grindelwald forever sets the chain of future events in motion. Includes Rolanda, Poppy, Pomona, Augusta and Galatea Merrythought. Rated T for the most part.  
><strong>

If you would like to see the 'inside scoop' of PoaG, art work, Blog, ect, my website is (without the spaces of course): ** sites. google site /darthvandolaff**

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><p><strong>AN:** If there was ever a time to thank people, it would be now:

**My betas:**

**_EmPoweredBeing_ **- Thank you so very much for accepting this enormous task/burden I've imposed on your soul... you have my permission to reign hell upon mine later lol. I've had a lot of fun working with you and trading ideas here and there. I also must thank you for being part of the inspiration which started it all! (It still astounds me that I stumbled upon your page and asked you to beta this monster with out realizing you were the author of those stories which inspired me!)

**_Spin84_ **- Spin, Spin, Spinny! You've entered this monster from day one and I've apparently snatched all your hopes of having a normal life, haha! Thank you so much for your continued support, laughs and (most of all) highlighters!

Megan "Nutmeg" - Sis, there are no words to describe what your involvement means to me, so these will have to do: You've stuck with me throughout this entire process, offering your support and opinions, from day one. You're what has, and always will be, who makes me continue writing this. You've read just about everything I've send your way, including the very first passage I wrote that was... four- five months ago? Needless to say, I could not have done this without you!

**To my readers:** I hope you enjoy this giant as much as I do!

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><p><strong>Profession of a Guardian<strong>

**Prologue**

'Cold as death' was an old saying in her time. In her youth she never thought she'd experience it, yet here she was again for the second time.

_If I'm dead, then at least I can't regret any more... I'm tired of living my life knowing that everything I've done has- in some way, shape or form -killed someone. So much death and suffering, agonizing numbness that makes it hard to get out of bed in the mornings, to continue living. _

_That damn Siren was right, her people's _'sight'_ on my future, everything she told me was right! I discovered their ways of Magic, of Transfiguration, and taught how to use their method. I have suffered at the hands of Dark evil. I've paid a price that no one so young should have to pay. _

_The song..._ She wasn't sure what made her think that, but it was instinctual and she didn't fight it._ The song..._

_Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way_

_I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day_

_Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret_

_Tell the ones, the ones I loved_

_I never will forget_

She was suddenly cold, very cold. The woman opened her emerald green eyes, but could barely see anything. Her vision was worse than ever without glasses, or maybe it was just the tears running down her face in such a shower that she couldn't see anything. She felt someone squeeze her hand.

"Minerva?"

The woman heard someone call a name, but didn't register it. She barely blinked, couldn't move- wouldn't. She could not remember who she was, her name, profession, family... she couldn't think. No thoughts could enter her mind, except for one, and it came with a picture; A beautiful young woman with long, nearly black hair with dark auburn highlights, whose brilliant sapphire eyes twinkled with mischief, knowledge, humor and the abundance of raw power.

"Narina..." an ache in her heart plunged through her senses. Something was wrong. No, more than that. Disastrous. She tried to cry out, but no words formed. Her vision only worsened as fresh tears of pain spilled down her eyes. She cried and trembled, wanting to scream but found she couldn't. "Nina!"

The man who said her name earlier, wrapped his arms around her as if in an effort to protect her from whatever else the future desired to crush her with. He spoke in soft, broke tones. "Hush, my love, it's me... you're safe, it's all right."

The woman's hands tried to break away from him, but was utterly futile.

"No it's not! Something horrible happened, disastrous, cowardly and- Narina..." She shuddered, feeling the ache in her heart deepen until it made it hard to breath. She looked up into the man's somber blue eyes. "Where is my Nina, Albus?"

Tears spilled from her face as the pain continued to torture her when she realised there was no twinkle in his eyes.

_"Were is my baby?"_

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><p><strong>Short, simple and to the point- no spoilers that can give to much away... a prologue.<strong>

**Hope you found this intriguing, and remember to review! I've love to hear your thoughts!  
>~LinK<strong>


	2. A Magic Beginning

**Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way**

**I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day**

**Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret**

**Tell the ones, the ones I loved**

**I never will forget**

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><p><strong>AN:**

~The McGonagall Family uses the Scottish Gaelic word 'Màthair' for Mother. In dialogue, this word will be used, but in regular text, it will not.

~In Profession of a Guardian I use the original dates for Minerva McGonagall before Pottermore happened; Minerva was born on October 4th, 1925 and she attends Hogwarts during 1937-1944 (like how it was before the dates were changed).

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><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's.**_

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 - A Magic Beginning<strong>

**Late May, 1930:**

The doorbell rang thrice in a similar pattern, signalling that the guest knew about Magic, or could perform it. A little girl with long, nearly black hair, tussled with a few waves sat up when she heard the chimes. She placed her book, _The Wizard of Oz,_ down on the coffee table and watched as her mother open the front door. The girl's emerald green eyes brightened the instant she recognized the visitors. Poppy Pomfrey, Rolanda Hooch and their parents.

Minerva quickly slid down from her chair and ran towards her friends, meeting them halfway with matching giggles and smiles.

"You ready, Min?" asked the beautiful young witch with golden hawk-like eyes that shone with excitement as her short bronze hair bounced with her head. Minerva couldn't help but giggle at her friend, but confusion slowly crept into her expression.

"Ready for what?" Her question didn't stop Rolanda's bubbling excitement, she was too busy bouncing up and down, so Poppy answered for her.

"Didn't your mum tell you? _Aquae Lament,_ its finished! We're all going to see it!" Minerva tried to hide the pang of sadness she felt in her heart with a soft smile, but it didn't go unnoticed, especially by Poppy, the trio's apparent mind reader, "Ah well, I'm sure she meant to tell you, Min, don't worry about it. At least, you know now - Rola! If you bounce one more time I might have to tickle you!"

Rolanda Hooch froze in place. Her yellow eyes wide and face showing signs of horror. Tickling was her mortal weakness and Minerva had to muffle an outburst of laughter to keep the moment from being ruined.

"Come along girls, let's go." Minerva looked to her mother, now carrying her little brother, Malcom, who was nearing his first birthday. Isobel tousled his ebony hair and kissed him before walking down the hall with Rolanda and Poppy's parents following.

"Are you all right, Min?" Poppy asked, noting the change of emotion in her friend's eyes.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well then come on you two!" The hawk-eyed witch tugged at her sisters' arms gently. "If we don't hurry, Malcom's going to be the first one to see _Aquae Lament!"_

That snapped Minerva out of her solemn moment, a challenge she did not want to lose. Together, the three ran down the hallway after their parents. They came upon a rather unique door engraved with three family crests, along with a statue, shaped akin to a cat, standing proudly beside it.

"Password?" The stone's whiskers twitched as it mewed

"Gooseberries," Isobel said sternly. With a click, the door opened and everyone entered the stone passageway. It was dark, despite the multiple torches that seemed to burn endlessly, but that didn't stop the three girls from dashing ahead. They knew where they were going, even if they hadn't ever been there before. It was pure instinct and anticipation that guided them down the tunnel, complete with a few giggles that escaped their lips echoing around them. They began to see a soft light appearing at the end of the tunnel, illuminating the girls ever so lightly and increasing as they continued to run and could hear the ever growing sounds of water splashing down from the ravine like a muffled train, except somehow, more peaceful.

"Is that a waterfall?" Rolanda asked between strides.

"It must to be,_ 'Aquae' _means _'water'_ in Latin, after all," Minerva pointed out with a humorous as-a-matter-of-fact tone. As the girls neared the end of the tunnel; an open archway, decorated with lovely wild flowers, welcomed them wordlessly. Natural sunlight shone brightly upon a lush open field complete with a small, and surprisingly loud, gushing waterfall. The spray from the falls caught the sun's rays, making them sparkle and shine; there were even birds chirping in the distance, singing their sweet early afternoon songs.

"Wow!" the golden eyed girl exclaimed breathlessly, still in taking the pure beauty of it all.

Hearing little Malcom's baby babbling echoing behind them, the girls giggled and rushed into the sanctuary. This place was built solely to provide the magical children that lived in Caluim, Caithness, a place to be free, play and experiment with their magic. The entire complex was unplottable by any Muggle, except Minerva's father, Robert. It was a place of magical freedom and security.

Minerva looked at Poppy, whose light hazel eyes glowing with the sun and her slight reddish brown hair gently waved with the breeze. She nodded, a smile making its way upon her lips. Minerva looked at her more reckless friend, who was bouncing up and down, bubbling with excitement and clearly ready to explode at any given moment.

Minerva smiled. "All right, Aquae Lament, show us what you got."

Rolanda broke into a half bouncing, half swooping mad dash to the water and she jumped into the water. Minerva and Poppy, giggling and laughing, joined their friend immediately.

As her body plunged into the magnificent water, she could feel a surge of energy spiking in her mind, then releasing itself into the beautifully cold liquid that engulfed the young witch. She opened her eyes and couldn't believe what she saw. The water extended for miles, the blue unending in its brilliance. A school of little colourful fish passed in front of her as several turtles swam underneath her, skimming along the sandy floor. She followed them, propelling her body through the water as if she was a fish herself. Coral reefs extended up from the sand, housing thousands of multi-spectrum aquatic life.

"_Min?_" Poppy's voice seemed to echo as distantly as the surface was above her. Minerva ignored it, and continued to swim free and effortlessly. She never wanted this moment of pure, blissful freedom to pass.

_Minerva?_ Rolanda's voice echoed in her mind. She sounded scared and with great effort, Minerva made her way back to the surface. When she broke through, however, her lungs were on fire. She gasped in panic, breathing for air that wouldn't come fast enough. Choking and sputtering, her head spun as she felt herself retreat back under. She instantly felt two arms pulling and tugging, trying to bring her back to the surface as her mind went into panic. Another surge of energy emitted from her fingertips.

The water felt like it drained from her body in seconds as a breeze surrounded her and body became weightless. Opening her eyes, she saw the ground a few feet below her and three pairs of small feet. She glanced up. Poppy and Rolanda were floating in the air as well, their bodies suspended from gravity.

"Min! H-how did you-"

Rolanda burst into gleeful laughter. _"This-is-wicked!_ Min, I don't know or care how you did this, just don't make it stop!"

"No! Put me down, down I say!" Poppy shrieked frantically.

"I don't know how! What do I say?" Minerva gestured her arms around as she talked. _"Stop?"_

The magic word. Minerva, Poppy and Rolanda landed with their feet firmly on the ground.

"Oh come on!" pouted the bronze haired girl with her arms crossed and beady eyes glaring daggers at Poppy. "You ruined it."

"You know I'm simply terrified of heights!" Poppy was still a bit shaken from the dreadful moment.

"Minerva!"

With a slight roll of their eyes, the young witches turned around, seeing Isobel running towards them.

"You were- _how _did you-?"

"We swam in the water, Màthair," the young green eyed witch tried to explain everything to her baffled mother. "I went under and saw these beautiful fish and sea turtles! There's coral down there, Màthair, and the water seems to stretch on for miles..." the young witch trailed her sentence to a halt, seeing her mother's look of shock. It wasn't common for Isobel to betray her emotions to her children. "What is it?"

"There are no fish in the water there, nor sea turtles or coral-"

"But I saw them! I swam with them! I-"

"Minerva!" Isobel interjected coldly. "I think you must have hit your head on something when you jumped and imagined those things because none of them exist in Scotland! Now, I want you three to run along and try not cause any more trouble."

With that, the woman left, leaving her daughter rather confused, along with the girl's friends.

"I didn't imagine them," she whispered sternly.

"We know, Min." Rolanda placed her hand on her shoulder.

"There's just one question," Poppy said softly, "Did you conjure them?"

Minerva shook her head. "If I did, then how would I have seen the water as if it was an ocean, going on for miles?"

"Good point. Well, maybe it's some type of illusion you created, half using your imagination from tales of the ocean and a combination of your magic then?"

"Poppy, you're a genius." Minerva embracing her friend.

"I know, I know, write me a memoir later," she said with a laugh.

"All I want to know is how you got us all to hover!" Rolanda's voice peaked with glee as she threw her hands in the air and twirled around like a ballerina in a tutu.

Poppy turned a pale shade of green. "Oh don't remind me, I might get sick just thinking about it!"

"Hey!" the hawk eyed girl exclaimed while suddenly turning around and grabbing Minerva by the shoulders. "Do you think we could learn how to fly brooms here when we're older?"

**Monday, July 22nd, 1937:**

Isobel McGonagall walked into the kitchen with the morning mail with her dark hair loose on her shoulder and glasses on her nose. Politely, she gave her husband the morning paper, then sat in her chair to sort the mail. Minerva detected a sharp inhale and looked up. Her mother's posture was stiff, her hazel eyes wide and mouth slightly open with shock.

"Something wrong, Màthair?" she asked before she took a bite of cereal. Her long, nearly black hair was tied up neatly in a bun and her soft green eyes kept a steady gave on her mother's face, searching for any clue for what made Isobel's mood change so suddenly. It was very unlike her mother to lose her stern grasp of emotions like that.

"No, nothing's _wrong._ I should have expected this, but actually receiving it is entirely different." Isobel glanced at her husband, refusing to look at her daughter for a moment. Robert looked up from his paper.

"So, Minnie has received her letter then?" he asked with a warm smile. Isobel nodded and gave the unopened letter to her husband. Robert adjusted his spectacles then took a look at it. Minerva exchanged a curious glance with her young brother, Malcom. He was three years younger than she, but despite the age difference they got along fairly well. They had depended on each other for so long; both helping the other to avoid any unintentional magic or speak about 'anything strange' around the Muggles, that they couldn't help but get along, especially once Cayden joined the family.

Malcom shrugged and went back to his breakfast while Minerva glanced at her five year old brother, who was nearly asleep and ignoring the family completely and with Cayden's headaches seemed to be getting worse as his magic began to form itself, he stayed silent most the time. She sighed, knowing very well that both boys had given up on asking curious questions.

"My letter?" she asked bravely. Her mother didn't like her children asking too many questions, but Minerva considered this an exception. Robert glanced at his wife one last time before he took his spectacles off and looked at his daughter.

"Yes, Min, your letter." He smiled again.

Isobel licked her lips. "Minerva, dear, you remember when I said that you'd eventually go to the school I did as a girl, where you'll be able to use your magic amongst other wizards and witches your age?"

The young witch nodded. Of course she remembered; she never ceased to ask her mother when she'd be able to attend, and in result got sent to her room a few nights for that.

"The school is called 'Hogwarts'," Isobel said as Robert handed Minerva the letter. She noted the seal of blood colored ink, it was addressed to her specifically and there was a unique symbol where Muggles placed their stamps. A badger, raven, lion and snake surrounded a golden 'H'. Minerva carefully opened the letter, not wanting to rip it so she may preserve it forever. Holding the first piece of parchment, she read the letter out loud.

_Dear Miss Minerva McGonagall,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st._

_Yours sincerely,  
>Albus Dumbledore, Deputy Headmaster<em>

Minerva looked up at her parents with a grin, her green eyes were shining with pure bliss.

"Dumbledore?" Isobel questioned. "He was the new Transfiguration Professor in my Seventh Year..."

The young witch skillfully ignored her mother's mumblings as she read the supplies list. "Where are we going to get all these supplies, Màthair? You can't buy any of this stuff around here, can you?"

Isobel almost laughed. "No, Minerva. We'll have to travel to London for that, in Diagon Alley."

"Will Papa, Malcom and Cayden be able to come too?"

"Of course, Muggle-born witches and wizards have their families come with them during their First Year purchases. I don't see why they can't come with us."

Excitement filled her veins. She felt like jumping up and down on her bed, something that she reserved for moments explicitly like this. Finally, she'd be able to associate with other witches, be able to use her magic at will, master every single detail there was to such skills and maybe, if possible, turn herself into a cat!

_Wouldn't Gracie love that?_ She giggled to herself, _Probably not, I've manipulated her mind to much. It would probably give her a heart attack to see me change into a cat like her!_

"When can we go?" she asked with excitement.

"Oh, I suppose we can go in about a week, get the shopping done before we go on vacation to Loch Ness. It'll keep your mind occupied on not using your magic anyway. What do you say, Robert, darling?"

"A week sounds good, we don't want to keep her waiting too long." He winked at his daughter. "I'll make a few letters to free up my schedule and we can decide on a specific date from there."

Her mother replied, but the young witch wasn't listening anymore. She dashed from the kitchen and into her room with Malcom and Cayden following her.

"I'm going to be a witch! I'm going to be a witch!" She giggled with laughter and turned around. "And in a few years, you'll be a great wizard Malcom!"

"I don't wanna be a great wizard. I just want to be Malcom the Wizard."

"Oh, but you'll have to be great to be called that!" she teased. "Besides, why wouldn't you want to be great? You're already popular with your grade- and you Cayd, you'll be the best Quidditch player ever!"

"Quidditch!" Cayden began roaring like a lion, his favorite team's mascot. "I gonna be Scotland's Seeker!"

Minerva started digging into her random Halloween outfits that her mother had made over the years, pulling out a witch hat with two feathers on the side. Malcom shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't want to be great because I couldn't see Papa."

Minerva looked at Malcom with surprise. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Malcom! Just because you're a great wizard doesn't mean you can't associate with Muggles! True, you can't show them Magic, but that doesn't mean you can't talk to them! Màthair's a brilliant example for that."

"But she had to give up magic, or at least most of it, in order to do so."

Minerva groaned playful. "You are such a downer! Here, put this on."

She tossed him a robe and a fake wand. He was reluctant put them on, yet once he did, he couldn't deny the excitement that rushed through his mind. The young witch grabbed another robe for Cayden then helped him put it on before she placed on her witch hat, simple emerald green robe and grabbed her fake wand.

"Let's go the Library, I bet we can find a place there to play Duel!" Malcom said, grinning as he and his brother raced out into the hallway. His sister laughed as she ran after them down the magically extended hallway and towards the McGonagall Library. The room itself was in no way shape or form small. It was actually enormous. Holding a staggering two-hundred thousand books, and counting. Twenty-five of them were added by Minerva herself, placed in the_ 'Muggle Books' _section and she knew where each of them were placed by heart.

Sure enough, the three young children found themselves a section with plenty of space to 'duel'. It was a tradition among them to do it about once a week as Cayden sat on the sidelines, still unable to completely control his magic. Pointing their wands at each other, they'd shout stupid words like 'flamio', 'portapus' and 'watergo'. Only once or twice has their magic accidentally acted up and it was usually minor damage, like a random book or two flying across the hall, usually, nothing disastrous.

They began with a bow and a gleam in their eyes then pointed their wands at each other.

"Flying Cartail!" Malcom yelled.

The young witch spun around to avoid being hit by a 'spell' and flicked her piece of wood at her brother. "Monkey Flortoo!"

Malcom got on the ground on all fours and started making noises like a monkey. He jumped onto a ladder and bellowed. She laughed at his act, and had to admit, he made a pretty impressive monkey.

"Your turn!" her brother said with glee. "Corfius Catakitten!"

Minerva ran up a few steps of and other ladder, shrieked out a meow, then jumped off, landing on all fours and walking around triumphantly. Her little brother laughed as he slid down his ladder.

"Catapillrus... um-" she wanted another word to her 'spell', something that sounded fun, but dangerous. "Oh, _Ventus!"_

Instantly, a strong gush of wind flew out towards her brother, knocking him into a bookshelf. Books flew everywhere, most of them towards Malcom as the bookshelf toppled down with a loud thundering crash. Minerva's emerald eyes went wide with horror.

"M-malcom?" Cayden whimpered as both siblings rushed towards where their brother. The books had fallen on top of him, nearly covering the boy in a pile while the shelf, luckily, had crashed in the other direction. Minerva removed a few books from his chest to shake her brother. His eyes were closed and no response was received.

"Malcom, are you all right?"

She wanted scream, the entire thing had been an accident, but part of her knew how bad it would look to Isobel when she came in. She'd see the library in complete disarray and chaos.

"What in the Merlin's name happened in-" Her mother came running into the Library, though stopped short for a moment when seeing her darling son unconscious and under a pile of books. "_W__hat - did - you - do?"_

Minerva started pulling the books off her brother. "I-I don't know, we were playing duel and I shouted-"

"Don't say it! I don't need you causing any more chaos than you've already created!" Isobel shrieked as she took Malcom from Minerva's hands and held him close to her chest. Tears formed under her mother's harsh words, but she blinked them back.

"Is everything all right? I heard a rather loud noise and thought I'd check to see if- oh, my..." Robert came from behind, seeing the destruction and books toppled everywhere.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything to happen, I didn't know-"

"That's precisely why I don't like you playing that game! You know that!"

"You know we can't help it! You have us suppressing our magic all the time and we love the game."

"No, Minerva, you love the idea of magic! You cannot use it here! Look at what destruction you've caused by your ignorance!" Isobel shouted at her young daughter. Robert slowly took Malcom from his wife's embrace, not saying a word. He didn't have a place in the conversation, or at least that's how he felt. He had no idea what it was like to have magic, thus thought his comments were always useless. He took his son out of the library and prepared to take him to the local doctor, calling Cayden to come with him.

"You've hurt your brother and made this ancient library a disaster zone, for Goodness sake! Never _play_ with magic again, do you hear me?"

Minerva's entire body shook, but she refused to look at her mother with tears in her eyes as she uttered the defeating words. "Yes..."

_"Yes?"_

Minerva narrowed her eyes. The entire thing was unfair, she had no idea 'ventus' was a spell, and it scared her that magic could be so powerful and deadly. She had never lost control of her magic. Ever.

"Yes, Màthair, I will never play with magic again." She hated those words, 'play with magic'. She wasn't _playing_ with magic, she was playing with what her imagination thought magic could do.

"Now, until we get back from taking your brother to the doctor, I want you to stay here and get the books back where they belong!" Isobel ran out towards her husband who was ready to leave.

Minerva fell to her knees, her fist clenched and a few tears leaked from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. _It's always my fault. Every time something happens, I get blamed, no matter if Malcom or Cayden was the cause, I get the brunt of punishment._

Minerva sighed and trembled as she choked back sob. She felt a soft silky fur of the small familiar animal brush against her hand. Gracie.

"Hey there girl," she said sadly as she hugged the familiar grey kitty she'd known for most of her life. Gracie always seemed to know when she needed comfort. She didn't mind the odd hugs or swaying that Minerva made when cuddling with her, just as long as the girl felt better afterwards.

More tears fell down Minerva's cheeks, and finally, a sob escaped her. She hated living here, being an outcast at school with no friends. Everyone thought she was different, weird and a complete 'know-it-all'. At home, she was blamed for every magical problem that either she or her brother conjured, some that she had no control over, including poor Gracie somehow doing her bidding. She made sure to give the cat extra treats those nights.

Soon, the young, dark haired girl found herself asleep with the help of Gracie's purr, tears still streaming down her eyes and sobs still muffling in the back of her throat.

She awoke the the sound her her father's soft voice in her ear and Gracie slinking out of her arms, "Minnie, darling, wake up. I'm home now."

The young witch's brilliant green eyes immediately popped open and she sat up straight. "I-I'm sorry Pa, I dozed off and forgot..." she stopped talking for a moment, noticing there were no books on the floor, the bookcase was back in it's place and everything was just as it had been before the accident- not a single thing out of place.

"Forgot what, dear child?" He asked with a small smile and sparkling green eyes, clearly amused.

"...to go to bed?"

Robert chuckled, piecing together what his daughter was trying to cover up.

"I don't know how you did it, but this place looks as if nothing happened. You must have done something with your magic, am I correct? Oh don't worry, it'll be our little secret." He winked then offered a hand to help her up. Minerva decide not to tell him that she didn't know if her magic had fixed the library or not.

"Hungry?" he asked her as they walked out of the room into the hallway.

"Yes, Papa," she said softly, realizing how late the time was, nearly five in the afternoon.

"I should expect so. Come on, I'll make you something," Robert held his hand out for his daughter to take. She smiled briefly, accepted his offer and they made their way to the kitchen in silence.

"Papa, is Malcom all right?" Minerva asked quietly as her father put a pot of water on boil. Her father turned to face her and smiled warmly. His green eyes, the same ones she inherited, sparkled softly.

"Yes, Minnie, he's just fine. He had a bit of a concussion but he's awake now. Isobel will be home with him and Cayden by nine so don't worry, he doesn't have any injuries but a big bump on the side of his head."

The young witch let out a sigh of relief. "I didn't mean to hurt him or destroy the library Papa, we were just playing and-"

"I know, my dear. I may, however, not know much about magic nor how you wizards and witches control it, but I've read some of the books, and I do know that young children tend to accidentally unleash their magic."

"If you know that, then why does Màthair get so mad when ever I do something?"

"She's just scared of the Muggles finding out, dear."

Minerva didn't add her first thought on this, knowing she'd get in trouble for it. Instead, she changed it around slightly, "Is that why I'm going to Hogwarts?"

"To learn how to control your powers? Yes," her father answered a bit too quickly than Minerva liked.

_She just wants me gone so I don't destroy something else. _Silence came upon them until her dinner was ready

"Can I eat in my room, Papa?" she asked with a soft plea.

"Any particular reason why you don't wish to join your_ 'old man'_?"

Minerva smirked. "No, I'm just tired. That magic blast zapped my energy I'd like to at least fall asleep in bed this time."

In truth, magic never tired her out, but her father didn't need to know that. She just wanted to be somewhere quiet and alone.

"All right, just don't tell your Màthair I let you. She'd _hortify_ me, or something... what's the word you use?"

"Hex?"

"Yes, that's it. Go on and get some more rest, Minnie, you'll need it."

"Thanks, Papa." She gave him a hug, then grabbed her plate and went up stairs. Gracie met her on the top of the stairs. With a smile, Minerva gave her a rub on the head then continued her way into her room with the grey kitty following her as she went.

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><p><strong>...and this 'officially' started on 1111/11!  
><strong>

**Profession of a Guardian (PoaG) has a lot of ground to cover before we even get into MMAD, however, if you stick with me I promise you'll be rewarded!  
>~LinK<strong>


	3. Special

_**Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way**_

_**I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day**_

_**Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret**_

_**Tell the ones, the ones I loved**_

_**I never will forget**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2 - Special<strong>

**July 29th, 1937:**

Minerva took a deep breath, then walked into the shop. There were dozens of bookshelves, piled with small boxes everywhere. For a moment, she almost thought she walked into the wrong store, until a young man walked into her view.

"Good afternoon, Miss, welcome to Ollivander's Wandshop." He smiled warmly. His pale silver eyes were startling, yet, awe inspiring. "My name's Garrik, you'll have one of my very first wands to sell," he stated proudly.

"I'm Minerva McGonagall-"

_"McGonagall?_ Hmm, I wonder, are you Muggle-born?"

Minerva shook her head, her dark hair swaying with her. "No, sir. I'm Half-blood, my mother's maiden name is Ross."

_"Ross!_ My, my, that's the family with the longest standing Ravenclaw House members in Hogwarts history, isn't it? You, my dear, will be a challenge!" The young man took off with a slight hop of excitement, giving Minerva a soft giggle, though it was short lived.

_Longest standing Ravenclaw House members in Hogwarts history? Màthair managed to leave that out,_ she thought bitterly. Garrik Ollivander came back with several small boxes in his arms and gleefully grinning. After placing them on the desk, he took one and removed the cover, revealing a long stick with a few patterns in the wood's engravings.

"We'll try Aspen with Unicorn Hair first," he said softly, then handed it to her. "Your great-great-grandfather had this same type of wand and he helped revolutionize the Ministry about a hundred-fifty years ago... Oh never listen to a wandmaker's ramblings, child. Here," he handed her the slender stick. Minerva gently grasped it with slight insecurity, not knowing what to do.

"Go on, give it a flick."

She did as instructed, and in response, the vase holding several delicate flowers cracked.

"Never liked that vase anyway, so thank you for your service," he said with a smirk and half a laugh as he took the wand from her hands and replaced it with another. This wand's slender design created unique markings around each other, forming something close to a palm leaf.

"Beach with Dragon Heartstring." Ollivander floated the wand into her hand. With a deep breath, she gently jerked her wrist. A loud crack, something akin to an explosion, occurred behind her, as parchment fluttered everywhere. Her eyes went wide with partial fear, as the papers surrounded her in like a wind tunnel then floated to the ground naturally. The wandmaker laughed and grabbed another box, which Minerva found rather odd. She placed the wand on his desk then grasped the new wand the young Ollivander gave her.

"Oak with Unicorn hair." That was a defiant no. Several books flew out of the cupboards, flying straight at them. Minerva and Ollivander ducked just in time, and the books crashed into the windows, leaving several book shaped holes in the glass.

"Well, you won't be a Herbology expert like your grandmother, that's for sure."

"I'm really sorry about this-"

"No, no, my dear! Please don't apologize, it's rather typical for destruction to occur." The way he avoided her eyes at the end of his sentence told Minerva that, while it may have been common, most of the _'destruction'_ was relatively minor compared to what she just created.

"Acacia and Unicorn tail hair. This should be an interesting match, not many are sold with the Acacia wood..."

She gave it a wave, and immediately regretted it. Multiple boxes from the top shelves rained from the shop, and landed in a circle around Minerva's feet, yet he grinned.

"Well then, I think that decides that Unicorn Hair is not for you. I figured so, however, you do have a rather strong mind, otherwise those boxes would have impaled us!"

Minerva looked at the nonsensical man with pure amusement as the he took the Acacia wand from her hands.

"We're getting closer," he mumbled while opening another box. "Yet, how much damage the shop will take, only Merlin knows!" Ollivander laughed, giving his young customer another wand, "Silver Lime and Dragon."

He stopped saying _'Heartstring'_ now that it was evident her core would indeed not be Unicorn Hair.

She gave the stick a gentle swish, but the effect was far from what she had in mind. Multiple shelves toppled over like the domino effect. Amongst this chaos, the windows behind her shattered. Thankfully, Ollivander had his wand out just in time to stop the shards of glass from penetrating either of them. All together, it was quite frightening.

Ollivander blinked a few times in partial shock before he began chuckling once more. "No Seers in your family, I should have known. Also, do not take Divination, as you won't like it, and do not learn Legilimency either as it won't be very good for your health to dabble too far into the subject."

Minerva gulped as his last comment then carefully placed the dangerous wand on the desk, not wanting anymore to do with it.

"Vine and Dragon, this one should be calmer than last time."

It was, however, everything on Ollivander's table- except the wands -rose into the air, then violently crashed onto the floor.

"Hmm, let's try this one. Dogwood with Dra-" Sparks emit from her fingertips before the wooden rod was even in her hands. The wand, acting like a dagger, flew upwards, nailing itself into the ceiling.

"Not a dog person, I see," he croaked with amusement.

"No, not really, I was chased by one once and it almost bit my brother before my magic encased it into a box."

The wandmaker laughed then grabbed the next wand. "Larch with Dragon."

Surprisingly, and thankfully, nothing happened- although wandmaker frowned and quickly took it back.

"Rowan and Dragon." A warm wind rushes around her, sparking with magic. Yet, something felt odd about the wand, like it didn't belong to her. Ollivander seemed to notice this, and took it back. He put it to the side of the desk, just in case, then handed her another wand.

"Pine and Dragon," he announced softly. Minerva wondered what was going through his mind, frustration maybe, but his eyes seemed to glow with extremely odd excitement. She gave the wand a wave; a book to her left levitated into the air, and seemed to suspend time for a moment, before it exploded into flames. He put out the fire with a wave of his hand, then with a glance and warm smile at his young customer, he grabbed another box without looking away.

"We'll try Ebony next!" Now his excitement was beginning to frighten her a little; it didn't seem normal after the multiple failures. This wand was far closer than any of the previous nine, despite the relatively minor damage -the boxes that surrounded her feet skidded across the floor, away from her and a few lights flickered- but she had felt it tug into her emotions and mental fortitude.

"We are close my dear, _very_ close indeed and, I must say, you are far more mysterious than I suspected! Hmm, very gifted and with a control of mind and temperament, extremely wise with an aptitude for knowledge and experience, you'll be exceptional in Transfiguration. I wonder, yes, yes! Fret not, Miss McGonagall, I have a rather rare option that's hardly used, but given the circumstances I believe it might be just be your wand!" Ollivander dashed up the stairs and into a locked room. Minerva, glancing at the destruction of the store, then began to shake.

_Is there really no wand for me? Am I just that incompetent at magic?_

"Oh, good heavens," a quiet, melodious voice whispered from behind the store. Minerva cringed, bracing for the impact of her mother's disappointment. A soft hand gently squeezed her shoulder, rather in comfort than anger. the girl looked up at her mother, who was completely emotionless except for her worried hazel eyes.

"Eleven wands. _Eleven_, and this is what happens," she gestured to around her, "complete and utter disaster!"

"Hush, Minerva, it's not a bad thing." The woman laughed slightly. "Actually, in the Ollivanders' eyes, it is considered an honor to match a tough young witch or wizard to a wand. The closest example would be like chocolate to us, so deliciously appetizing and rather addictive."

Then Isobel did what Minerva would have never expected, she embraced her daughter tightly in her arms. It was immensely comforting, almost bringing tears to both women's eyes. "It means you're special, my darling. Special beyond most wizard-kind and far different from what many expect you to be."

It was a compliment like she had never heard before in her life, filled with praise, kindness and security. Her heart ached for it to continue, but the bustling of Garrik Ollivander rushing out of the room and down the stairs broke the moment.

"If this doesn't work, my dear, I'll have to wake up my father, because I'm rather stumped!" he said jollily, taking off the cover. "Fir wood with Dragon Heartstring, rare but extremely effective; in the right hands, of course."

He pulled out a long rod with a crystal tipped end. It was a very unique design, one that Minerva felt an instant attraction to. Hope filled her mind, wanting this wand to be hers. Energy surged through her limbs as her fingers touched the rather cool, stiff and smooth wood, giving her the sense of incredible power. On normal circumstances; Minerva might have been drawn away from such an intense magical tug, not wanting anything to do with what could cause her magic to stir up trouble, but this was not the case. It warmed her heart, calmed her mind and extended her surrounding senses. She felt positively glowing with pride and courage, that when a loud roar of a lion erupted from the wand, she giggled. Finally, she found her match.

Isobel smiled at her daughter warmly, then proceeded to pay for the wand. Minerva hardly paid attention to anything that was happening, she was completely content with bliss. Ollivander couldn't have been more happier even if he tried- and if it weren't for the two ladies in front of him -he could have bounced and flailed around like a maniac without a care in the world. There was something about this match that told him Minerva McGonagall was indeed a very strong hearted young woman with an incredibly important destiny in the near future. He very much looked forward to seeing her again- and possibly her children in the many years to come.

The two women walked out of his shop with smiles and connected hands. Despite the wand being in the case, Minerva could still feel its magical pull, yearning for her to take it into her hand. She quickly dismissed it, telling herself she must wait until Hogwarts. Her wand seemed to accept this with grace and respect, as it softened its gripping tug with satisfaction.

"I'm very proud of you, Minerva, sticking with the process for so long without giving up. Eleven wands is a lot to go through."

"How many did you have to try, Màthair?" She asked the question absently and without thinking. When her mother didn't answer her, she knew she wouldn't be getting one. The young witch shrugged it off, not letting the awkward silence affect her mood.

"Malcom, Cayden and your father are at the Leaky Cauldron waiting for us, we'll be eating there. Did you enjoy your day?"

It irritated Minerva to no end that she could be asked questions- even simple ones -but could not ask the same ones to her mother like a normal family.

"Yes, Màthair, I enjoyed it rather immensely," the young witch said with a forced a smile, silently wishing Poppy and Rolanda were at her side. As they walked towards the restaurant, they began to pass Magical Menagerie when two unusual blue eyes caught Minerva's attention. The dark haired girl stopped dead in her tracks while peering into the shop's window, letting go of her mother's hand in the process. They were so captivating that while she heard her mother call, she didn't pay attention.

They belonged to a cat. A gorgeous, well built in the shoulders, tawny brown tabby cat with the most unusual blue eyes and a stubbed tail. _No more than an year old, Merlin he's so handsome!_

The tabby laid down, put his chin on his paws, then continued looked at her with sad eyes and ears slightly drooping.

"Minerva Margaret McGonagall!" Isobel called loudly as she marched over and grabbed her daughter's hand. "Didn't you hear me call?"

"He looks so sad."

"What?" Isobel shook her head. "Minerva, look at me!"

"That cat up there," Minerva pointed with her free hand, still refusing to break eye contact with it- as if she could read his mind and he could read her own. Isobel looked to where her daughter was pointing and when she saw the fury fluffball, her irritation towards her daughter vanished.

"We never did get you a pet, did we?" Minerva's eyes snapped to her mother's face in disbelief. Isobel then looked down to her shocked daughter and answered the question in the girl's mind. "Go on inside, hold him and make sure he's friendly."

Speechless, Minerva nodded, then dashed inside the store. She slowed down as she approached near his cage, not wanting to scare him.

"Hey there, big boy," she said quietly and kindly. The sadness in the cat's eyes disappeared upon those words, and his ears perked up in attention. Minerva began to unfasten the lock when he began rubbing his head and licking her fingers lovingly.

Minerva giggled. "I know you're excited, boy, but I can't unlock it with your head in the way!"

The cat sat down, his whiskers twitching with amusement as he watched her open cage. When at last the door opened, he walked over the the entrance and poked his head out with a soft trill. Minerva grinned and scratched his ears. She stroked his head before pulling him into her arms. Almost upon touch, he went limp with happiness and all doubts about the cat were gone when he started purring. It was so loud, deer and beautiful- the perfect melody to put her asleep after a hard day.

"Bonded for life, are we now?" Isobel said quietly, not wanting to startle the cat. Minerva simply nodded. "Well, all right then. Come on, let's pay for him."

The girl moved the feline to her shoulder as they walked over to the counter where the owner's eyebrows shot up in surprise upon seeing the furry creature in a customer's arms.

"My, my, I never thought I'd live to see him get a home, his stubbed tail really turned off every one who looked at him, the poor thing."

Minerva shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me how long his tail is. He's got a big heart, that's all that matters to me." She nuzzled his nose with her own and kissed him. The purr from his chest immediately grew even louder as his paws began to knead on her shoulder.

The store keeper's eyes began to shimmer with tears. "Tell you what, half price for this special fella. I can already tell he's going to a good home." She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Thank you, he really is a sweet boy." The girl turned him belly side up and began to caress his soft underside with her free hand.

"Now, what will you name him?"

Minerva stared into his dazzling blue eyes for a moment, communicating in silence. "Mico."

"Mico? That's an unusual name, my dear. I don't think I've heard that choice before, but it suits him. He really is an special kitty."

The tabby chirped up a meow in agreement, making all three witches chuckle. Yes, Mico was special indeed, just like her. Maybe that's why she became attached to him so deeply, but only Merlin would know that.

All three of them made their way to the Leaky Cauldron, Mico quite satisfied in staying in her arms where it was warm, comfortable and safe. Not a word was passed between the two witches, however, as neither could find sense of them, not that Minerva was complaining. She rather enjoyed it, especially with Mico in her arms. He gave her a sense of calming relief, as if he healed her thoughts with his presence.

As they entered the pub, Minerva followed her mother to the table where Robert, Cayden and Malcom were sitting. The three were beaming excitedly as they watched Minerva wander over. There was a rather long object, thin for the most part until the lower half that expanded in the shape of a upside-down raindrop, that was wrapped in brown packaging parchment on the table, complete with a gold ribbon.

"What is that?" Minerva asked absently.

Her mother's reply was stern, annoyed by the simple question. "Go find out."

Mico, hearing his owner's heart beat with happiness, began to purr again as she raced towards the table. Her brothers met her halfway with an embrace and awe at the kitty in her arms.

"It's a kitty!" Cayden exclaimed. "Minvey's got a kitty!"

Malcom outstretched his hand, waiting a moment for the feline to sniff him, then scratched his ears gently.

"His name's Mico."

"Mico!" the little boy echoed with glee, stretching out his small hands. "I wanna hold Mico, Minvey!"

_"Want to, _Cayd, and yes, you can hold him."

"Can I hold him after you, Cayden?"

The little boy pursed his lip and furrowed his brow in distaste. "No."

"Cayd, you need to share. Malcom, you can hold him after we get our food." Minerva handed over Mico, whose tail began to wiggle with bliss. "Now, if you'll both excuse me, I'm rather curious about what's on the table!"

Minerva ran over to her father, who stood up as she came his way and stretched out his arms. Minerva embraced her father gladly, breathing in the calming scent of his cologne.

"I hear you caused quite a stir at the wand shop," Robert chuckled. "They say you nearly blew it down."

"Eleven wands, Papa, eleven! Mr. Ollivander said himself that there had never been such a challenge to match a wand for nearly forty years!"

"That just means you're special, Minnie."

"I know." She hugged him a bit tighter then released her hold. "What's on the table, Papa?"

Robert bent down slightly, and whispered in her ear, "Why don't you open it?"

With wide eyes and excited hands, Minerva rushed onto the booth. Gently, she removed the ribbon, then rolled out the object. The first thing to appear was a thing wooden handle, engraved with silver words _'Comet 180'_. Minerva's jaw dropped slightly, he lips forming a small circle as her fingers ran down the broom's shaft.

"When your màthair she sent us men away, and you went to get your wand, the boys wanted to go into the broom shop. I decided it would be a great gift, one that I actually know what it does, for you to have. Cayden decided the model and Malcom informed us it's best built for speed, excellent for a Seeker. I hope you like it."

"I don't know what to say... Thank you, Papa! It's lovely."

Dinner came and went, but Minerva could not stop thinking about the broom and what her sisters would say when they saw it.

* * *

><p><strong>...and that sets us up for the next instalment! Minerva's middle name, Margaret, is Maggie Smith's actual first name and I thought of it as an appropriate tribute. Garrik Ollivander is so much fun to write! Speaking of which, I did a ton of research for these wand woods, even made a giant list, and there are a lot of different woods!<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed, please review!  
>~LinK<strong>


	4. A Deep Message and Seeker's Thrill

_**Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way**_

_**I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day**_

_**Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret**_

_**Tell the ones, the ones I loved**_

_**I never will forget**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 - A Deep Message and Seeker's Thrill<strong>

**Early August, 1937:**

Minerva sank into her bed with her arms crossed and a groan of disapproval escaped her lips.

"Cheer up, Min. You're not going away forever, it's just for a week." The Poppy crawled her way into the bed near her friend to comfort her.

"Yeah, a week purely devoted to keep me from using magic. Poppy, Loch Ness is encased with an ancient ward that disables all magic. I won't be able to practice basic spells or fly-"

"What?" Rolanda jumped off her seat in protest, her feet loudly stomped the ground as she did. "No flying? That's crossing the line!"

Poppy rolled her hazel eyes. "Oh please, Rola, there are _far_ worse things they can take away."

"Says you. Flying is my life!"

"And magic is mine." Minerva narrowed her eyes, frowning. "It's who I am and it's part of me. How can she even fathom the possibility that I'd give it up?"

"Maybe she thought you won't need it?" Poppy suggested.

"But I do need it! I know that sounds silly and childish, but I do. If I didn't have magic, I don't know who I would be..."

The room fell silent with her last drifting words. Rolanda joined them on the bed, snuggling up close with her sisters. They stayed there, helping each other block unwanted thoughts and help them relax and enjoy their comfort with what little time they had left together.

* * *

><p>"Well, we're here. Welcome to Loch Ness, children," Robert said as Isobel tucked the portkey into her purse. Malcom let go of his father's hand, his jaw dropped and eyes widened from the view in front of him.<p>

"Wow. Min, Cayd, turn around. The lake!"

Minerva turned around a little slower than her youngest brother, viewing the great Loch Ness. While it was beautiful, it didn't warm her enough to smile. She knew exactly what this place was and the slight tingling in the back of her head confirmed it; it was an anti-magic prison. Minerva tore her eyes away from the lake to stare at the castle with genuine loathing, the ancient wards made her feel as if something was beginning to be severed deep inside her.

"Come along now," Isobel's voice chimed as she gently stirred Malcom away towards, what only Muggles saw, a half destroyed stone castle. "Let's go inside and get our rooms settled."

"Come on Minvey!" Cayden said, looking up at her as he tugged at her left hand. Minerva sighed, seeing the castle as nothing more than a prison.

"All right," she whispered slowly, defeated by the eagerness of her beloved brother. She took a step, one-single-step, and it felt as if she was walking on little needles, stabbing into her heart, mind and soul. Magic was everything to her, combined into her very being and it was being taken from her without choice. She felt the turmoil within her mind rattling her heart.

Cayden could feel the struggle within his sister and stopped tugging on her arm. "Are you all right, Minvey?"

Minerva forced a small smile, as she cut off their connection, not wanting to cause him any more worry. "I'm fine Cayd, although I'm glad that you're not completely attuned to your magic yet."

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, but decided not to pursue the topic further. She took a deep breath, then continued to slowly walked towards the castle. The wards grew thicker as she pursued her way, causing the needling underfoot to advance their agonizing pressure.

"Minerva, darling, just let magic flow out of your mind. If you continue to fight it, it will only get worse," Isobel said, poking her head out of a window, then left just as quickly as she appeared.

_Easy for you to say, you've given up magic most of your life, locked it away in fear that Muggles would see who you really are,_ Minerva thought. _No, I'm a witch. It's what I am and what I'll never cease to be._

Her new found courage stoked a fire in her heart as she clung to her magic tightly, mentally willing it to encase a barrier around herself. It worked. She could feel the needles ebb away and the tightening at her chest cease. Minerva smiled defiantly; she just created a personal anti-ward shield charm.

The dark haired girl stayed in her room most of the time, reading her books non-stop, yearning to learn everything there was about magic. How to perform a spell with a wand, wandless magic and its effectiveness, and especially the branch of Transfiguration. The topic was absolutely fascinating to her and every now and then she'd look through her window and see her family playing on the shore line or in the lake and she'd take her reading outside, near the willow tree, so that her parents wouldn't complain.

At night, however, it was completely different. After the first few nights of practicing she was able to expand her anti-ward barrier around her room so she could practice wand magic. A surge of mischief, magical curiosity and the will to perform flowed through her heart and mind. Minerva summoned her wand to her hand with a single thought, not entirely knowing what she was doing but she had to do _something_ or she'd go mad. She got out her Transfiguration book, searching for the first spell in the curriculum.

_Match to needle._

Quickly and quietly, Minerva crept down to the kitchen, grabbed a few matches from the cabinet, then went back into her room. She locked the door just in case anyone had heard her, then proceeded to read, again, the procedure of the spell. With a wave of her wand and incantation of words, the match's wood tensed near breaking point, then became hard as steel. She picked up the match and attempted to snap it but to no avail. She grinned with pride. It took everything she had to not jump up and down like a kangaroo.

Minerva focused her ecstatic mind on completing the spell and within two more casts, she had perfected it. Though not entirely how, but she did and she was ecstatic. It felt right, perfect, natural like the blood that pumped through her veins.

She heard the creak of the wooden floor in the hallway. Immediately, she grabbed her book, waved her wand while whispering '_Nox'_, then dived under the covers as the dim light turned off. Minerva held her breath as the footsteps gradually came closer to her door, then let it out again as they went downstairs. She didn't move, and her eyes began to droop with exhaustion as a yawn came over her. _Magic can wait for tomorrow night._

Indeed it did wait. Minerva awoke to the sound of her brothers' voices outside, squealing and giggling as they splashed in the water. She smiled, imagining what they were getting themselves into. _Nothing good, that's for sure._

Minerva checked under her pillow for her wand. Seeing it there, she climbed out of bed and quickly changed into a new set of young witches robes, grabbed her Transfiguration book, then ran downstairs.

"Good Morning, Minnie."

"Morning, Papa!" Minerva called, not looking back as she continued to run outside and heard her father laugh as he watched her.

"Minvey!" Cayden yelled, waving his arms at her from the water. She could see Malcom further out, beyond the dock, treading water to stay afloat. Minerva placed her book under the willow tree then ran over to the dock. Cayden climbed out of the water using the ladder, "We found something! Malcom says it's a fish, but I don't think so!"

"It _is_ a fish, Cayden!" the older boy insisted as he gradually made his way towards his siblings.

"Fish don't leave a sparkling trail behind them!"

"There were not sparkles!"

"Yes there were, I saw them!" Cayden turned around, his big green eyes stared into his sister's identical copies, pleading her to agree with him, "You believe me, don't you sis?"

"Of course I do, Cayd, but I'd-"

"See, I told you!" Minerva rolled her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. _Not again! If there is one thing I will be grateful for going to Hogwarts, it would be to get away from their constant bickering!_

"Just because Minnie believes you, doesn't mean it's true!" Cayden whined.

"Boys, please!" Minerva raised her voice, nearly shouting in the process. Both of them looked at her with wide eyes, having never heard her shout at them in such a manner before. "If it is that important to know the truth, then dive under water and see it for yourselves."

Malcom shook his head. "We can't, it swam out of bounds."

Minerva rubbed her temples, groaning softly. "All right, fine. I'll go."

"What?"

"I'll go see if it's a fish or not." Minerva took off her shoes as she replied steadily. She stood up and prepared to jump but Cayden grabbed her arm.

"Minvey-"

"Don't," the older boy interrupted. "You'll get us all in trouble. Màthair said-"

"I don't care what Màthair said!" Minerva shouted. "She's the reason we're trapped in a prison that suppresses our magic! I hate it and I hate her for making us stay here."

"Y-you don't mean that, do you Minnie?" Malcom swam closer to the dock, his voice slightly quivering, and not from the cold.

"The devil I don't, Malcom." Not bothering to see his reaction, Minerva removed her arm from Cayden's grip and kissed his forehead while whispering. "Wish me luck!"

She dove into the water, feeling the rush of icy water hit her skin, and placed a mental block in the cold and focused on swimming out of the boundary. She surfaced for breath a few times then checked her position.

"You're almost there, Minvey, keep going!" Cayden cheered, his excitement was in complete contrast towards his brother's worried state.

"Be quiet!" Malcom hissed in the little boy's ear. "Do you want Màthair to hear you?"

Minerva continued her course, concentrating on her breathing and arm strokes. A bright light sparkled for a moment in the corner of her eye. After first, she thought it was just the sun reflecting against the water, but then she saw another and another, until it began to form a trail- just like Cayden said. Minerva plunged under the water and opened her eyes. The shimmering sparks of light were nowhere to be found. She swerved her body around, looking behind her. Nothing. The relatively clear, blue green water showed nothing. Not a single fish or living thing at all.

Disappointed, Minerva began to propel her body towards the surface when she suddenly felt, something like a hand, grab her ankle. She didn't kick to loosen it in fear, like most children her age would. Instead, she looked down. Large, bright yellow eyes that were almost painful to look at stunned her momentarily. Thick, dark red hair pooled around a slender, pale, moss-green skinned, feminine creature. Small sparkles of light danced around the fins of her tail which glowed a serene effect. It was a Siren.

The beautiful creature placed a finger upon her amethyst lips, signally for silence, or in Minerva's case, no struggle and the young witch complied with a little nod. Minerva watched the siren swim up to her, completely captivated. She didn't understand why, but she felt very safe right now.

When the sun blazed eyes met her emerald green orbs, the creature opened her mouth, singing a melodious song the echoed softly within her mind.

"Child of change, of morphing talent: born to discover the ways of our magic, of how we survived. You will suffer at the hands of dark evil, a terrible price for one so young. _My_ people have _Seen_ what is to be and it makes us weep, even in the water. Your heart will guide your actions. May you live by the song of my people."

Suddenly the siren began to sing. It wasn't a very pretty song. Strangely, it was filled with morbid intent, yet, it also swayed with a deep, centered hope.

_Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way_

_I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day_

_Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret_

_Tell the ones, the ones I loved_

_I never will forget_

Minerva suddenly felt very faint, yet somehow calm, as if her mind had entered a very happy daze.

"If you bind your life with this, it will give you the strength to continue living, even in your darkest days."

The moment the siren began to swim away, Minerva's trace ended and she grabbed her arm. _Wait, please, I don't understand!_

The creature shook her head, then leaned forward. "You will in time."

Her dark lips softly pressed against her cheek, then again to the other, before Minerva felt a strong current fling her from the siren's grasp. All Minerva could see was the dancing sparkles of light fade away as her body unwillingly climbed to the surface.

When she broke from the water, her lungs bursting for air, she could hear Cayden and Malcom's frantic calls.

"Minerva!"

"Minvey!"

She coughed a bit more, wheezing air into her burning lungs before managing to croak, "I'm all right!"

"Then hurry up and get over here before Màthair or Papa see you!" Malcom hissed.

"I'm moving, I'm moving," she mumbled as she began to paddle her way into the boundary. Every stroke she made was automatic. She was numb and wasn't sure why, she doubted it was from the cold water. The siren's message was just as chilling to her... and that _song!_ Minerva couldn't make sense of it, the entire thing was purely bizarre. She decided to not tell her brothers about the siren, or her message for that matter, best that they have nothing to worry about but that didn't mean she couldn't tell Cayden that he was right about the 'sparkles', did it?

**Mid-Late August, 1937:**

Minerva held her broom with pride as she raced down the dark stone passageway with Rolanda at her side and Poppy trailing just behind them. The peaceful roar of the waterfall filled her ears with further excitement. Upon reaching the entrance of Aquae Lament, the two sisters mounted their brooms without breaking a stride and their feet glided off the ground. Minerva's dark hair flowing behind her as she soared through the air, hearing Rolanda holler out with glee while spiraling like a rocket. Minerva, flying with more grace than her reckless sister, soared after her, causing Rolanda to concentrated on her speed as she made vertical launch into the air. Together, the two witches entangled in a spiraling dance.

Poppy, whose feet were still firmly planted on the ground, lost sight of her sisters in less than a minute. Alhough she could feel their thoughts and emotions through their mental link, her nervous thoughts didn't fully reach them until she felt the swoop of both sister's stomachs as they plunged into a nosedive three hundred meters from the ground.

_Give up Min, you can't beat me!_ Rolanda taunted Minerva.

The dark haired witch laughed. _Oh yes I will! First one to pull diving down towards the waterfall loses._

_You cannot be serious!_ Poppy yelled at them in their mind as fear ebbed into her thoughts. Two hundred meters passed and neither girl flinched to pulled up._ Oh for Merlin's sake! Min, pull up! Rola, stop this instant!_

One hundred meters. Minerva could see the water's stream directly below her and she grinned with devilish intent. Rolanda, far too concerned with her own speed, didn't register her sister's new thoughts. Poppy, however, did. _Minerva Margaret McGonagall, don't you even dare! You're far to inexperienced, it's insane and your going to get killed!_

Fifty meters. Rolanda hunched her shoulders, preparing to pull up at what anyone would consider, the last minute. Minerva did the same, though what she was planning was far more daring. At ten meters, the hawk eyed girl pulled up, but Minerva didn't pay attention, not wanting to distract herself. She could feel the mist of the waterfall behind her.

Rolanda turned around, and with Poppy they both screamed, "Minerva!"

The dark haired witch pulled with no more than a single meter above the water's surface. She outstretched hand, gliding it across the water as she slowed her broom down. Her hair was in a complete mess, but she didn't care, euphoria filling her mind.

Poppy, now on her broom, followed Rolanda over to their friend's side, hovering over the stream. Both of them in utter shock, although the hawk eyed girl was more excited than anything.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

"Do you know what you just did?"

"You could have been killed!"

"How did you do that?"

"Quidditch!" yelled a gleeful voice behind them, startling the two witches into silence. All three turned to see Cayden bounding down the hill towards them with a small golden ball in his hand. Minerva gracefully flew near her little brother, leaning slightly to be eye level with him and hovering over the ground with ease while she extended her arm towards the shining object.

"What do you have there, Cayd?"

"It's Màthair's first snitch!"

Minerva nearly fell off her broom. "P-pardon?"

Her sisters flew near her side, Rolanda seemed to be on the verge of bouncing off her broom and onto the ground.

"Min, you never told me your mum was a Seeker!" Rolanda's excited voice beamed aloud.

"I didn't. Cayd, are you sure it's her's?"

"I'm quite positive, Minerva, as I caught it myself," Isobel's cold voice echoed from the tunnel as she appeared from the entrance, her dark hair flowing freely down her back and twisting slightly to perfectly frame her face. "I was Ravenclaw's Quidditch Captain, and from what it looks like, you've inherited that skill as well."

The woman knelt down to her son, who gave her the golden ball. It activated its feathery wings upon her touch, buzzing like a humming bird. "Why don't you give it a shot?"

She released the ball from her grip and like lightning, it zoomed past Minerva's emerald eyes. The girl raced after it without a thought, following its trail like a predator tracking its prey; weaving in and out of the trees, climbing then falling in altitude, edging closer and closer. She reached for the ball with all her might and clutched the golden devil. The feeling was incredible.

All three kids cheered, Rolanda being the loudest, "You and I are going to tryouts! It's official, Min, there's no getting out of it now!"

Minerva laughed as she glided towards them. "All right, all right! It's you're turn to practice though. Poppy, can you toss me a ball?"

The light bronze haired girl eyed her curiously then tossed her the ball while Rolanda hopped on her broom again and soared to their makeshift tree goal. Instead of catching it with her hands, Minerva harnessed it with her magic, hovering it around her body. Poppy's jaw dropped and Cayden giggled.

The yellow-eyed girl, however, smirked, "Are you going to toss me that or just impress everyone with your awesome powers?"

In a blink of an eye, the Quaffle-size ball zipped through the air. Rolanda drifted slightly to the left, then barrel-rolled onto the ball, tumbling through the air several times.

"Miss Rolanda! Your Màthair wasn't kidding when she said you were destined for Quidditch. You're a natural!"

"Thank you, Mrs McGonagall."

Rolanda tossed the ball on the ground near Poppy, who then tossed another ball towards Minerva. She circled the ball around her body once, then fired it at the goal. Rolanda pulled up hard then whacked it with the tail end of her broom. The ball landed thirty feet away near the entrance.

"I'll get it!" Cayden's excited voice said as he bounded away towards the ball. Poppy tossed another towards Minerva. Isobel left to make supper, reminding them to not do anything stupid while she was gone. They practiced for nearly an hour. Rolanda caught, or diverted, every ball hurled at her, and when she began to grow tired, Cayden would release the Snitch for Minerva to chase after until she was breathless. The little boy watched her with wide eyes, captivated by his sister's performance.

"Again, do it again!" he cried as Minerva glided her feet back on solid ground. She sat down, trying to steady her breath, exhausted.

"Minvey!" Cayden ran to her side. His short, nearly black hair blew slightly in the wind as his brilliant green eyes staring at her, clearly disappointed that she stopped chasing the golden ball. "Do it again, go chase it!"

Minerva chuckled. "I can't, Cayd. I'm too tired."

"But I want to see you catch it again!"

Minerva smirked, sat up and grabbed her beloved brother by the waist, tickling him. His giggles filled her thoughts with happiness.

"You're such a silly boy!" she kissed him on the cheek, resulting in him wiping it off with a grin and she hugged him close.

"Minvey?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, Cayd?"

"I don't want you to go to Hogvarts."

Minerva sighed. "It's _Hogwarts_, Cayd, and I know. I wish I didn't have to leave you for so long, but I have to. It's where I'll learn to use wand magic."

He nodded silently as a single tear slid down his face. She saw the shimmering drop and hugged him closer, but he didn't see his sister's tears following his.

* * *

><p><strong>~LinK<strong>


	5. Sisters of Hogwarts

_**Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way**_

_**I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day**_

_**Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret**_

_**Tell the ones, the ones I loved**_

_**I never will forget**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 - Sisters of Hogwarts<strong>

**September 1st, 1937:**

Instead of driving all the way to London, the McGonagall family used the Floo network to enter Diagon Alley again and from there, they went to King's Cross. Minerva, in her best emerald green robes, pushed her cart with pride as she saw the Hogwarts Express just ahead, the sign 'Platform 9¾' hanging near the engine. Mico mewed, partly in distress; being in an unknown place but also in wonder.

"It's all right, Mico, we won't be here very long."

The feline's big blue eyes looked up at her and blinked, before he lay down, as if he understood her. The young witch smiled in amusement.

"What is this place, Màthair? It's so loud and there's a lot of people here, I don't like it," Cayden whined a little as he removed his hand from Isobel's and walked towards his sister.

"This is King's Cross, Cayden, we're in London," their mother replied simply.

"This is how I'll get to Hogwarts, Cayd," Minerva said as she gently took his hand. "The train's called Hogwarts Express. It was built last year, according to Hogwarts; A History, isn't that right, Màthair?"

Isobel ignored her, not that Minerva was surprised.

"I wanna ride the train! Papa, can I ride the train with Minvey, please?" Cayden turned around, looking as if he might break down in tears if denied. Before Robert or Isobel could speak, however, Malcom had to say his own input to compete with his sister.

"No, Cayden. The train is only for those going to Hogwarts. You _can't_ ride it."

"I didn't ask you, Malcom!"

Minerva held her little brother's shoulders to keep him from taking a swing at Malcom. "He's right, Cayden. You'll be able to ride the train when you attend Hogwarts."

"But that'll be forever and I wanna ride now! I don't want Minvey to leave..."

Minerva bent down, wrapping her arms around the boy with pure sentiment.

"Min!" A two voices shouted from behind, following a rush of footsteps. With a slight groan, she turned around just in time for her sisters rush into her with arms spread out wide.

"I wondered if we'd catch up with you before having to board the train, there's so many people here!" Poppy said softly, grinning ear to ear. The whistle blew, interrupting them and signalling the the ten minuet warning.

"You three better get onto the train," Ms Hooch said sweetly. The woman's shortly cropped, beautiful golden blonde hair was almost sliver. Everyone knew it was part of the reason her late husband had been first attracted to her, and it wasn't hard to see why. "You don't want to miss your ride."

"Make sure you get a compartment near the window, we'll want to wave good-bye." Mr Pomfrey kissed his daughter on the cheek. Mrs Pomfrey did the same, bending down for a moment to give her daughter a hug and butterfly kisses, a typical Pomfrey tradition.

"Stick together," she said, "and don't lose sight of each other. Oh, and don't fall off the boats while going across the lake!"

Ms Hooch laughed. "Cora, dear, are you going to warn them of everything you did wrong on _your_ journey to Hogwarts?"

"It doesn't harm them to be reminded of what _my_ parents didn't tell me-"

"Oh please, it's more like you didn't listen to what they were saying," Ms Hooch teased gently slinging her arms around her friend's shoulders. "You and I were so excited that you completely ignored them."

"I think we all did that," Isobel added.

Robert walked over to the girls, chuckling as he did. "I'd take the time to leave while you can or you'll be here listening to these three waffle on as the train leaves."

Minerva hugged him tightly. "I love you, Papa."

"I love you too, darling." He kissed her forehead. Minerva turned to face her brothers and embraced the older of the two first.

"Make sure Cayden doesn't blow up the house while I'm gone for me?" Minerva whispered to him as she pulled away.

Malcom giggled in agreement then winked at her. "I think we both know how that will go, I'll end up blowing it be for him."

"Good point, forget I said anything." Minerva bent down and kissed Cayden on the nose, "I'll be back before you know it and keep your brother out of trouble."

Cayden giggled as well, then gave her a kiss back. "I will, Minvey, I promise."

Minerva looked back at her mother, who was still reminiscing with her old friends, shrugged and turned back to her sisters. Rolanda was bouncing slightly on her toes, bubbling with mischief and excitement. Poppy was grinning madly even as she retrained her sister from exploding with glee.

"All right, let's go!"

With a battle cry towards the future, all three girls grabbed their carts and dashed for the train. They gave their carts to the baggage elves, though Minerva insisted on keeping Mico for the train ride, and boarded the train with linked hands, Rolanda taking the lead. They found a compartment with a window towards their family and waved as the train departed, just like their innocent lives that departed with them.

Minerva could have sworn she saw two tears slide down her mother's cheeks before Isobel turned her head and gathered her sons, turning them away from the train to leave for the Manor again. Then again, it could have just been a smudge on the window.

* * *

><p>When the train arrived at Hogsmeade, trio unloaded the train with ease. Mico had to be put back in his cage, much to his dislike but Minerva made sure to give him a kiss on the nose and a scratch behind the ear before leaving for the boats with her friends. The row across the Black Lake was magical. All three girls' eyes were transfixed on the glowing castle on the horizon. Just like Rolanda did when talking about Quidditch, Minerva began to feel extremely giddy upon realizing that this giant castle would be their home for the best part of seven years.<p>

After crossing the lake, the large group of first years traveled up the stone path from the docks to the front gate. It wasn't a long walk, but Minerva wished she could have spent more time absorbing every detail before they went inside. The interior of the castle was more extravagant than she predicted, exactly like the fairy tales her father used to tell her; long stairwells, interior balconies that over looked very large rooms and paintings that moved and talked. There was a certain type of energy that radiated in the halls, Minerva could only conclude that it was an aura of magic from all the wizards and witches that have passed through these halls.

The group made their way up the stairwell until they reached the top. There they were greeted by an auburn haired wizard, who's beard had been trimmed for the occasion, wearing a fluorescent set of robes, mainly of violet and gold. Behind his half-moon spectacles, stunning sapphire eyes beamed down upon them, twinkling with wisdom, kindness and maybe a bit of mischief. Minerva took an immediate liking to the man; there was a sense of trustworthiness that seemed to radiate from him, though she could tell there was more to the wizard than her eyes could see.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, I trust your journey went well?" All heads bobbed excitedly and the wizard smiled, rubbing his hands together as if plotting something. "Excellent, now, I'm Professor Dumbledore, the Deputy Headmaster of this school and I'm delighted to see you all here today and I look forward to meeting each and every one of you in my class. Before you enter the Great Hall and take your seats, you will be sorted into your Houses. There are four; Hufflepuff takes those with a kind soul, Slytherin keeps those cunning and ambitious, Ravenclaw holds those who crave knowledge and have a witty tongue to boot while Gryffindor seeks those of a brave and loyal heart.

"Your House will be something akin to your family while you are here, so try not to make quick of enemies, as you may be paired with them for a while. Now, try to relax, this is not a test. Please form a line and follow me to the Great Hall, we are ready for you now."

Minerva glanced at Rolanda and Poppy with worried eyes. She could feel their worried thoughts creep into each other's mind.

_What if we're all sorted into different houses?_

Minerva grabbed hold of their hands in one swift motion. "No matter what happens, we'll always be friends."

"Nothing can tear us apart." Poppy squeezed their hands in agreement.

"We're a sisterhood 'til the end," Rolanda said proudly. Sisters, that's what they were, and always will be. Together, the three girls kept their hands held firmly as they walked down the hall with the rest of the first years.

The Great Hall lived up to it's name. Indeed, it was a great hall. Four long tables lay vertically down, parallel to each other, each holding a mass group of students all with the same color ties and robes that defined which tables they were seated by; green, blue, red and yellow. In front of these tables, though a significant space parted between them, a horizontal table, stretched to the ends of the walls, sat the staff. The Headmaster, Armando Dippet, sat at the center in a large golden throne-like chair. He was a rather old man with a white beard, nearly bald head, and graying hazel eyes. Professor Dumbledore walked down the hall with the new arrivals trailing behind him, each gazing at different objects with awe. The most noticed was the open ceiling, or at least it looked open.

"It's enchanted by the ghosts here, that's what makes it look like the sky above," Minerva said absentmindedly, not entirely meaning to sound so informative.

"Let me guess, you read it in a book somewhere?" Rolanda said with a teasing grin as she too looked up.

Minerva blinked away from her gaze and blushed a bit. "Yes, I did, in Hogwarts; A History. It's a wonderful book."

"I'm sure it is, Min, but did you really read the entire thing before History class has started?"

Even Poppy started giggling along, Minerva shrugged smiling with them. It did sound ridiculous. "What can I say, I got bored at Loch Ness!"

Professor Dumbledore stopped after reaching the stool with an old, frayed, tattered and patched brown leather hat.

"What_ is_ that? Don't tell me we have to wear that _thing_ do we?" Minerva heard a student whine dramatically, causing her emerald eyes to roll.

"When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and I'll place the Sorting Hat upon your head." He unrolled the scroll. "Abbot, Peter."

A blond headed boy with freckles stumbled up shyly as he sat down. The hat sank over his eyes, then sprung to life. It's wrinkles moving like a face as it shouted _"Hufflepuff!"_

The table on the far left shouted out with glee, welcoming their newest member.

"Avery, Collin."

"_Slytherin!"_

Multiple other names were called, and all houses were named, before finally Dumbledore called, "Hooch, Rolanda."

Rolanda's golden eyes widened, her hand tensed in their grip.

"Go on," Minerva whispered, squeezing her hand reassuringly. She nodded, glanced at Poppy, who squeezed her hand as well, then walked up to the stool with grace and pride. The green-eyed witch held her breath as the hat settled upon her friend's head. She could hear the hat's thoughts which streamed into her sister's mind. It was odd, but rather amusing at the same time.

_I sense great determination in you, Miss Hooch, great indeed. A fiery, passionate, and loyal heart... oh and what's this? Aha! Bravery to soar the skies like no one has done before! Yes, yes, I do believe Gryffindor will satisfy your tastes._

"_Gryffindor!"_ the hat shouted out to the crowd. Poppy and Minerva grinned up at their sister, clapping for her as well.

Opal Jacobs went to Ravenclaw, Percy Jenson and Ally Kettles went to Hufflepuff, Lorence Kormac and Augusta Louise went to Gryffindor, while Sebastian Lestrange and Abraxas Malfoy predictably went to Slytherin. After them, it wasn't long before she heard her own name called.

"McGonagall, Minerva."

Minerva saw many of the staff exclusively look at her with the calling of her name, especially Professor Merrythought, giving her the uncomfortable feeling that they were expecting something of her that Minerva herself didn't. Poppy squeezed her hand then let go, it saddened the young witch to know that Poppy was now the last of the three, but she knew she'd have her courage when the time came. Minerva took a deep breath then walked up. She glanced at Professor Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling with pure curiosity as he watched her, then placed the hat on her head. It didn't feel as old on the inside than she thought it would.

_Oh my, my, my! What do we have here? Oh this surely is a surprise indeed. A descendant of the Ross family, yet a half-blood? Oh, my dear, you are a fascinating specimen! Where to put you is a grave question indeed. I see a large thirst of knowledge, just like every Ross before you. You have wit, oh that much is for sure, and it'll serve you well. Surprising though, you are far more courageous, loyal and brave than all of your predecessors. Dear, oh dear. Where to put you, __**where**__ to put you?_ _Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor... Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw?_

One minute passed. She could hear the shuffling of impatient feet.

_Gryffindor... Ravenclaw... Gryffindor... Ravenclaw... You know something?_ _Forty generations of Ross members have passed through my judgment and not one of them has ever been this difficult! Not even your mother, and mind you, she was a difficult soul to sort! What is it about you, that makes you so special, my dear? I am__** stumped!**__ Your father must be very kind hearted soul indeed, and a loyal one at that, for I don't recall ever pondering the option of Gryffindor for any Ross this much! Dear, oh dear... You've already read all of your books for this year? You've been secretly practicing too, knowing that you can't be expelled for using underage magic until you start magic school! You have to be __**RAVEN-**__ No! No, no, no..._

The sorting hat suddenly went silent, not a word passed through its mouth nor a thought in her head for a few moments until three minutes had now ticked by since the conflicted hat was placed upon her head.

_Hmm... You have a passion for friendship, that much is clear. You're very close to your 'sisters' I see, and your two young brothers. Oh for Merlin's sake, What-to-do-with-you? I haven't had this much trouble to sort a student since Filius Flitwick twenty years ago! He only took three-and-a-half minutes... You, my dear, are a special case indeed! A fiery heart, yet a thirst for knowledge that will be frightfully hard to quench!_ _Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor..._

Four minutes pushed on and Minerva could hear several students begin to whisper.

"What's taking so long?"

"Maybe she doesn't belong in any House?"

"No one can be without a house."

"Maybe she's a squib?"

"She's not a squib you blabbering idiot!" a familiar honeydew voice hissed in defence for her friend. "I've seen her use magic and let me tell you, she's powerful, with or without a wand."

Pride swelled in her heart hearing Poppy's words. She'd have to thank her when she got the chance.

_Ravenclaw... Gryffindor... Ravenclaw... Gryffindor... Ravenclaw... You know, it's students like you that really wrack my powers and make me frayed._

_'Sorry, Sorting Hat, Sir.' _Minerva wasn't entirely sure if 'Sir' was right, but it did seem to have that deep masculine tone.

_Oh no, no! Do not be sorry! It's quite an enjoyable challenge!_

'_Merlin's beard. What is it with people and enjoying an impossible challenge!' _Minerva nearly shouted in her thoughts. Five minutes had now passed them by...'_First it's Mr Ollivander, then Malcom, now you? I mean really, it makes so sense to continue pondering when it's so simple to just charge right in and-'_

_Merlin's pants dear child! My, oh my, 'just charge right in', you say? That's something new! You have courage, my dear, and much of it. Courage, bravery and loyalty, you value above all else. I see it now. It's all clear to me. Oh yes, you, my dear, are most certainly..._

The hat paused for a moment.

_**"GRYFFINDOR!"**_

The entire table of Gryffindor's cheered with delight as Dumbledore took the hat off. Minerva looked to Poppy first, with tears in her eyes and a grin she nodded her approval. Minerva grinned back, then left the stool, rushing to the wide arms of the ever bouncing Rolanda. They quickly sat down at the table which was filled with bustle and whispers about her being the first five-and-a-half minute hat stall, in over a century. The two girls shrugged it off and focused her attention on her thoughts to Poppy, the lone sister who's House fate had yet been decided.

"McLaggen, Roger."

"_Gryffindor!"_

"O'Neil, Trever."

"_Ravenclaw!"_

"Parkinson, Victor."

"_Slytherin!"_

"Pomfrey, Poppy."

_You can do it Poppy!_ Rolanda thought with a smile in her direction.

_We're here for you. _Minerva took Rolanda's hand and squeezed it, out of nerves mainly.

They watched as their rusty haired sister sat down on the stool and the hat flopped over her eyes.

_Pomfrey, eh? Well, my dear, your family has a history of Hufflepuffs, however, I see that you value selflessness, daring and courage above all else... and your loyalty towards your 'sisters' shines above all in your heart. Very well then, "GRYFFINDOR!"_

Minerva and Rolanda stood up, cheering with the rest of their table as Poppy ran over to them with a grin. The three embraced in a hug, together united at last.

There were a few names left, but only one really stood out in Minerva's mind. She was a short girl with beautiful curly ash-brown hair and a little bit round, but there was something that shined about her. Maybe it was her eyes, a warm chocolate brown, that seemed to be full of tender kindness that struck Minerva so deeply.

"Sprout, Pomona."

"_Hufflepuff!"_

Minerva caught the girl's eye, smiled and clapped as if she was one of her own house.

* * *

><p><strong>We're at Hogwarts, woo-hoo! I know, I know, it's a shorter chapter than usual, but the next chapter will make up for that!<strong>

**Please Review!  
>~LinK<strong>


	6. The First Day, of the First Year

_**Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way**_

_**I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day**_

_**Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret**_

_**Tell the ones, the ones I loved**_

_**I never will forget**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, although I do take credit for the OC's**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 - The First Day, of the First Year, of the Rest of Their Lives<strong>

**September, 2nd, 1937:**

Minerva awoke to the gentle prodding of fur pressing against her cheek. She giggled without opening her eyes and reached out to pet Mico, the purring fuzzball. He began to knead at her chest, and for once she was glad he was on the comforter so his claws didn't poke into her skin.

"You're hungry, aren't you?"

With that, the cat sat up and jumped down to the floor, letting out a demanding mew as he did.

"All right, all right," the girl chuckled and reached for her night robe as she climbed out of bed. "I'll feed you, buddy, but I don't want you getting the habit of waking me up sweetly just for food, all right?"

The brown cat brushed against her legs, looking up at her adorably and blinked a smile. Minerva reached into her bag and pulled a handful of cat food and placed it into his bowl. He nudged her hand aside and dived into his breakfast. Shaking her head with amusement, she spend a few moments petting him as her eyes adjusted to the incoming light of dawn.

"Your cat wake you up too?" a girl said quietly from behind, not really asking a question. Her golden blond hair shone with the sunrise. "Oscar figured out he gets what he wants when he's being adorable, the little devil." She out stretched her hand to shake. "I'm Augusta, by the way. Augusta Louise."

The dark haired witch accepted the greeting as she replied kindly, "Minerva McGonagall."

The girl's eyes widened, though a curious grin spread across her face. "You're the buzz around the school!"

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Minerva said dryly, rather despising that her sorting was being made a big deal.

"I take it you don't particularly enjoy your new-found fame?"

"I wouldn't call it fame, Augusta-"

"But that's what the teachers are saying! Every student who has stalled the Sorting Hat, has and will do something extraordinary!"

Minerva snorted. "Oh please, next thing they'll be saying is that I'll be saving the world. Honestly, Augusta, you should learn to never take magical theories seriously."

The girl smiled softly and nodded, silently acknowledging that the dark haired witch wanted nothing more to do with the conversation. "Either way, I'm glad you're in Gryffindor. My brother says our Quidditch team will be looking for a new Seeker next year. I hear your mother was the Ravenclaw's Seeker, didn't she win the Quidditch cup every year?"

_Why does everyone know more about Màthair than I should? I'm her daughter for Merlin's sake!_ The witch shrugged in responce to Augusta's question, then checked the time, portraying that she didn't care. She felt like she shouldn't anyway.

"Good morning everyone!" Rolanda jumped out of her bead, startling Augusta who nearly doubled over. Minerva, used to her reckless friend's excited bombardments, just laughed.

"Morning Rola, this is Augusta Louise-"

"Oh, I know who she is, I've been listening to your conversation for a few minutes now."

"Ever the eavesdropper, Rola?" Augusta asked, still trying to settle her nerves.

"That's me!" Rolanda swirled around the room, spun the blonde haired witch around then jumped on Poppy's bead. "Wake up Poppy, it's 7:20!"

The formerly sleeping girl sprang up from sleep, and dashed out of the covers, looking at the clock. She slowly turned her head around, giving her friend a death stare while seething, "_Rolanda Napollo Hooch, if you EVER wake me up like that again, I will personally see to it that you're late to flying lessons for a month!"_

She then proceeded to tickle the bubbling jack-rabbit until she surrendered. Minerva laughed more than she had for a very long time, before she looked at the clock, that is, and sighed.

"As much as I hate to spoil the moment, we really should get a move on to the Great Hall."

"I'll see you all at breakfast, it was nice meeting you," Augusta said briefly, then walked out of their dormitory.

The trio of friends quickly put on their uniforms, took turns brushing each other's hair and smoothing out their skirts. They all left with one thing in their hands. Minerva and Poppy carried their wands but Rolanda however, carried her broom. They strode out of the Gryffindor common room with smiles of confidence, they had each other and that's all they needed.

They passed a group of three Slytherins, who glared at the green-eyed witch. The platinum blond boy spat icy words referring to her blood status, but they brushed it off; at least until they were out of sight, then the green-eyed witch borrowed Rolanda's broom to whack them with. They giggled a bit as the three boys ran away with red bottoms and she returned the broom to the giddy hawk-eyed girl.

"They'll be sore for a few weeks," Poppy commented and looked back at her friends, though her grin disappeared upon seeing Rolanda's transfixed gaze on the broom. She hit her forehead softly with an open palm and shook her head. "Whatever you have going through your head, Rola, it would be wise to not turn it into actions."

She watched as the golden eyed girl glanced at Minerva with a devilish smile, then mounted the broom before saying the inevitable, dreaded two words which always mean trouble, "Oh no."

"Oh yes, Poppy, yes indeed!" Rolanda cleared her throat then yelled, "Clear the hallways! Rolanda Hooch is coming through!"

Minerva and Poppy's hair swished as the reckless girl zoomed down the hall. She zigzagged through the columns which separated the castle's wall to the outside world, and spiraled through the stair cases. She turned around quickly and made a beeline back to her friends, laughing madly.

"We're doomed. Doomed to eternity, I tell you!" Poppy wailed, though couldn't help but laugh. The sight _was_ rather amusing, especially to those who knew the wild girl. For a moment Rolanda closed her eyes, feeling the breeze running through her short hair, whirling around her skin and flowing through her cloak, completely oblivious to Professor Dumbledore who stepped into the hallway, arms full of books. Hearing the echoing laughter, he looked up, his twinkling blue eyes widened.

Minerva acted before the man could; any second later the reckless girl would have smashed right into the auburn man. With her wand already pointed at Rolanda, she shouted, _"Mobiliarbus!"_

Weaving her wand to the left, the broom followed with a sudden jerk. The man jumped to the side, barely averting the oncoming bullet. His books flew everywhere. The dark haired witch furrowed her brows in concentration as she tried to create enough tension on the broom before her arm began to shake with strain. Unable to keep a hold of the broom steady any longer, Minerva let go, dropping Rolanda and the broom into the nearby fountain with a splash.

Just for a moment there was utter silence and the two girls looked at each other with worry, but then laughter hollered from below, followed by a few splashes as Rolanda flailed her arms around as she hollered out in glee.

"Oh, what did I tell you, dear sister? Doom!" Poppy laughed as she ran down the stairs towards the reckless girl. Minerva watched them with a bit of a smile on her face, but didn't go down to them.

"Yeah, well, it was totally and completely worth it!"

"Worth having to eat breakfast with drenched clothes and a cold in the morning?" Poppy hauled her soaked friend out of the fountain.

Rolanda danced around, her garments flinging water on the ground. She answered melodiously, "Oh sweet Merlin, yes!"

Rolling her eyes in amusement, Minerva looked away and focused on the unfortunate Deputy Headmaster.

"Are you all right, Professor Dumbledore?" she asked, picking up a few books with her magic as she did. His eyes twinkled with an expression she was unfamiliar with, awe maybe? He nodded slowly, as if coming to terms with his own thoughts.

"I am now, Miss McGonagall. You saved me from a week in St. Mungo's." His words went a bit sour as he shuddered slightly in revulsion, then he winked at her. "I don't know about you, but I like to stay as far away from there as possible."

She smiled as she held up the books to him. "I'm sorry about Rolanda, she can get a bit_ 'lost in the moment'_ when on a broom."

Dumbledore chuckled, taking the books into his own stack. "I don't blame her, the feeling of freedom is wonderful indeed. No, I think the real issue is why first years are allowed their own broomsticks- though I do have to wonder, it's only your first day and classes haven't even begun, how did you acquire the knowledge of that spell?"

"I've done a lot of reading over the summer, Professor."

"Ah, I see." They way his eyes twinkled as he spoke, Minerva knew quite well that he didn't entirely believe her, but he didn't press the subject. "You three best be on your way to the Great Hall, breakfast is an essential key to a good day. Oh and I look forward to seeing your talents in my class tomorrow, Miss McGonagall. And Miss Hooch, do try to keep your feet firmly planted to the ground for the rest of the day."

Both girls blushed a bit as the professor walked away.

"So, Min, how much practice _did_ you do at Loch Ness?" the hawk-eyed witch teased, hooking a wet arm around both her sisters and dragged them off for breakfast.

"Not enough for my liking."

During their meal, the Owlery arrived and the students' schedules were distributed by Professor Merrythought. She was a tall witch who wore her very slightly greying black hair in a tight french twist. Her eyes were an unusual pale blue and barely looked at her students as she passed the parchments around. Yet, when the elder witch came over to the girls' table, her eyes connected with Minerva's. She blinked twice, rather slowly as if she was struggling to break the stare, before she finally gave all four Gryffindor girls' Time-Tables and walked away.

Minerva didn't have time to ponder the Merrythought's actions before a distracting groan of disappointment was uttered from Poppy

"Double potions with Slytherin," the generally soft-spoken witch scowled, tossing the sheet of paper towards the middle of the table.

Rolanda beamed. "Hey, you think those three snakes we ran into this morning will be there?"

The green-eyed witch nearly choked on her drink for trying to hold in the laughter. "I'd give anything to see their faces again, and if need be, give them a little reminder about who they're messing with."

"Come on you two, we better get a move on. If we're going to wander through the Slytherin dungeons for Potions class, we'll want to get there early."

They found the classroom just fine, simply following the green flaming lanterns hovering over the ceiling. Although the hallways weren't all that different from the tunnel that connect Aquae Lament, the three girls mutually agreed that they despised the dungeons. There was something ominous in the air, as if something was reaching out, searching for something, or someone, to latch onto and drag them down into the depths of eternal abyss. To their relief, the classroom rejected the possessed feeling, instead, it seemed to provide a shelter. They took their seats were their cauldrons were placed and moments later, a slightly plump man with velvet green tartan robes strolled in with a smug grin, as if he knew exactly what his students would think of him, and loved it.

First impression of him for Minerva, was that he was a bit of a hypocrite, slightly over confident but an overall kind man.

"Good morning everyone, I am Professor Slughorn, Hogwarts' Potion Master- Mr Riggly, I do believe you're in the wrong class. Second year Hufflepuffs have Transfiguration this hour." A student in the back quickly scrambled out of the room and ran towards the Transfiguration Department, "As I was saying, in this class you will be brewing potions. Now, I know you're probably wondering what kind of potions are there? Well, there are all kinds, but, who can tell me what Asphodel and Wormwood are used for?"

Minerva gracefully raised her hand, not too quick, but not too slow. It didn't really matter anyway, no one else had any idea. A small smile seeped into Professor Slughorn's lips upon seeing her hand, as if he was expecting her to know the answer.

"Miss McGonagall?"

"Sir, Asphodel and Wormwood are used to make the Draft of the Living Dead."

"Excellent, m'dear, ten points for Gryffindor!"

And that's how most of the day went. Everything that Slughorn talked about, asked them to do, the dark haired witch was the first to complete it and _always_ managed to perfect it. In the beginning, it was just the three Slytherin boys that were glaring at her in disgust, but by the end of class, just about all of them were. Normally she would feel scarred and extremely shy, but there was something about the moment that made her beam inside and wear a smirk on the outside. A Gryffindor was finally treading on the Slytherin's tails, in their own territory.

She earned forty points total that first hour, entirely confounding Professor Slughorn with what she knew. When he dismissed class, he pulled her aside for a minute, wanting a private word with her. Minerva glanced at her two sisters, nodding for them to go ahead without her.

"Miss McGonagall, this_ is_ your first year attending magic school?"

"Yes, Sir."

"If I might say, your not a pure-blood, are you? I haven't heard of any McGonagall's in my time."

"No, Professor, my mother is, but I'm Half-blood. My father's a Muggle."

"Your mother was a pure-blood? Hmm, what is her maiden name?"

Minerva managed to keep a stern face, but on inside she was cringing. "Ross, Sir."

"_Isobel_ Ross?" When the young witch nodded, Professor Slughorn nearly laughed, shaking his head with an emotion she couldn't entirely comprehend.

"Oh my, m'dear girl, that explains quite a lot. Your mother was quite the Ravenclaw, extremely clever just like yourself. Always surprising her professors with the unexpected, model of perfection and knowledge and getting into trouble now and then. M'dear, I'd like to extend an invite for you to the join the Slug Club next year. I know that seems like a long time away right now, but nevertheless my offer still stands. I only take the best under my wing, if I might say so, m'dear, you are one of the best and brightest."

"I- er, thank you, Sir, I'll keep that in mind," she muttered. Having heard about the 'club' already, she had every intention of avoiding it.

"I'd best not keep you waiting, better get moving to your next class. Oh, and if you're late, just tell them that you were talking with me."

"Will do, Professor, and have a good day."

Defence Against the Dark Arts, or as Minerva like to call it, DADA, was taught by Professor Galatea Merrythought. Her true behaviour shined through during her teachings; she was a kind, stern woman, who had been in the Auror program for nearly fifteen years before coming to Hogwarts. She managed to send a fearful shiver down most first years spines when the elder witch said that she had seen horrors- which she could never wish upon her worst enemies -being conducted upon her friends, family and many innocents. Professor Merrythought then explained that this was this reason why she took upon teaching; for the younger generations to protect themselves from such horrors.

Minerva took an instant liking to the elder witch. Even though she slightly resembled her mother in her stern ways, she also had a soft side, one that shone through her eyes and allowed her to reach into the students who had insecurities.

The green-eyed witch earned fifteen points by knowing the difference between an Animagus and a Werewolf; something that a late second year should know, and for knowing the disarming spell, '_Expelliarmus_'. They all took turns attempting to perform the Confusion charm upon rats, which only she and a Ravenclaw boy managed to do correctly. Minerva and the Ravenclaw boy shook hands at the end of the lesson, vowing to beat each other next time and winking at the end of their vow. Next time they would be practicing on one another and attempting to thwart off the spell's effect. The young witch knew that wouldn't be too much trouble- if any at all.

Herbology, on the other hand, was not exactly something she aced at. She was knowledgeable of the subject, but not magically talented like the Hufflepuff girl, Pomona Sprout. They were paired together with there being an odd number in each house and the two got off to a grand start.

"Hi, I'm Minerva," the dark haired witch raised her hand as she peered into the gentle brown eyes. The girl smiled and shook the Gryffindor prodigy's hand.

"I'm Pomona and it's good to finally meet you. I hear you're already tearing up the composition for _'Witch of the Year'_ already."

"Yes, well, if I can't pass Herbology, the odds for that are zero to none. Plants tend to hate me, and my mother, so I'm not expecting much."

The pudgy girl laughed. "Stick with me, Minerva McGonagall, and you may just pull through!"

They spent the hour listening to Professor Herbert Berry ramble about the importance of herbs; their classification, where they're found, how to use and prepare them. Most of it Minerva knew, though she found them slightly confusing. Pomona would write a few hints, tips and a few corrections to her notes genuinely. Minerva made sure to welcome her to asking for help if needed.

The Hufflepuff witch smiled, nodded her thanks before leaving and then waved good-bye. "I'll see you tomorrow in Transfiguration!"

The three girls waved, turning the opposite direction down the hall.

"She seems like a nice girl, I hope she doesn't make a position in her Quidditch team," Rolanda commented with a smirk.

Minerva elbowed her playfully. "Is competition all you can think about, Rola?"

The hawk-eyed witch just grinned.

"Well, onward to the Gryffindor Tower, then?" Poppy inquired.

"To start homework? Yes." the green-eyed witch added.

Rolanda groaned, "Oh why must you constantly have things done as soon as possible? Haven't you ever heard of procrastination? Really, Min, it wouldn't kill you to relax. We can do it tomorrow night!"

Sure enough, Rolanda gave up on her views of procrastination when Poppy and Minerva dove into their books. Together, they got it done before dinner time and they made their way downstairs. Just before entering the Great Hall, however, three Slytherin boys- each with a pattern of bruises in several places -jumped in front of them. A platinum blond haired boy lead the other two with confident strides.

"Well, well, if it isn't the three _twitches_ of Gryffindor," he sneered, his cold grey eyes piercing into Minerva's green emerald orbs.

"If it isn't three slime-dungs of Slytherin." Rolanda smirked, concealing a laugh. She couldn't put a finger on it, but the sight was rather hysterical of how the two would subconsciously cower behind their leader.

"How's your head, Malfoy?" the green-eyed witch piped up sternly. "I heard you took quick a beating this morning from a bewitched broom! Haven't you learned how to control a broom yet? Or is your father too busy to teach you?"

"You filthy half-blood, you'll pay for what you did! When my father hears about it-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but what exactly will he say when he hears that you ran away like a coward?" Poppy's eyes beamed with the courage.

"You... ah, yes, I know _you._ Your father is Thorfin Pomfrey, isn't it? I hear he's a sympathizer for that disgusting squib of a sister!"

The hawk-eyed witch took a step forward, her eyes shining in with determination. "How _dare_ you insult her family like that! You Malfoys are nothing but stuck up, selfish, pure-blood fanatical cowards that hide behind the Ministry!"

"Rolanda Hooch, is it? I heard your father committed suicide because he couldn't bare knowing you didn't inherit his Metamorphmagus ability. What a pity, to have never earned his favour."

That bit of her family history was something Rolanda Hooch _never_ talked about. She ha been seven when her father was found dead in Diagon Alley and- while it seemed highly plausible -Adrian Hooch had never been a suicidal or depressd man and most certaintly never ashamed that his family ability hadn't pased on to his only daughter. The Pure-bloods, however, believed otherwise.

Enraged, Rolanda let out a roar of raw emotion and lunged at Malfoy, but her sisters caught her arms and held her back. "Let me at him! Just one punch in his face to put that stuck up nose back where it belongs!" she growled with hate, her eyes tearing up with the emotions of her father coming back and haunting her.

"Rola, calm down, you're going to get us expelled!" Minerva hissed.

"That's right, you filthy half-blood, keep her from attacking me," he spat at her. "You're no better than a Mudblood, you, your brothers, and your Muggle-loving whore of a moth-"

_**BANG!**_

Minerva wasn't entirely sure what happened, yet, it was obvious magic had been involved. The blond Slytherin boy was on the ground, his nose bloody and arm looked severely broken. Yet, no wand was raised; not-a-single-one.

"W-What the hell did you do to me? My n-nose, my arm!" he barely managed to sputter out the words as he screamed from the pain.

"What in then- Merlin's beard!" Professor Merrythought burst through the room, then gasped upon seeing the injured boy buckled to the ground. Her pale blue eyes wide and angry. "Mr Avery, run to inform Madam Nurix that she has a patient. Quickly boy!"

As the Slytherin boy ran off, the professor's eyes narrowed sternly upon the three Gryffindor girls.

"You three; stay here, or so help me, you will have detention for the rest of the year." Merrythought turned on her heel, rushed into the Great Hall to call Professor Dumbledore, then went to Malfoy's side.

The green-eyed witch glanced at her sisters, both just as shocked and horrified as herself with one haunting question on the tip of their tongue. What had happened?

In the pit of her stomach, Minerva knew she had been the one who attacked Abraxas; she just couldn't explain it. She hadn't felt her magic explode through her senses so quickly before, that she couldn't even register if she'd done anything, and the thought terrified her. The trio turned around with the sound billowing of robes behind them, dreading the outcome. Dumbledore, dressed in deep violet robes, rushed to their side with a stern look of fury on his face.

"I believe you four have some explaining to do," he said with a tone that commanded cooperation.

The three girls looked at each other in silence, unsure how to explain. Finally, Minerva opened her mouth, but it was too late.

"S-she did it, Sir!" Lestrange trembled, trying to look terrified as he pointed to the hawk-eyed witch. "I d-don't know how, but she attacked him! She's mad and uncontrollable-"

Dumbledore held his hand up. "That's enough, Mr Lestrange. I did not ask for opinions."

He turned to face the girls, but the boy spoke up again, "It was an unprovoked attacked, no wands were drawn-"

"_Unprovoked?"_ Rolanda spat, her fists shaking as she spoke. "You think that calling Minerva's mother a _'Muggle-loving whore'_ isn't reason for-"

"Enough!" Professor Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, forcing the two to stop fighting. Just then, the Slytherin boy came rushing back down, wheezing for breath. "Mr Avery, come here for a moment."

The boy obeyed and the professor motioned for them all to follow. The three sisters followed behind the boys, all three providing a comforting protection within each other. They all had something thrown at them, but Minerva would be the one the get the brunt end of the punishment for an act she couldn't control. The Deputy Headmaster lead them to his office in the Transfiguration department.

"I'll speak with you boys first. When done, you will both leave this room and go back to the Great Hall without a word exchanged between the girls, is that understood?"

The boys mumbled, "Yes, Sir," under their breath. It was enough to satisfy Dumbledore though.

"Then go inside and take a seat, I'll be there in a moment." He watched them as they trotted off to his office, studying their every move. They held a slight skip in their step, as if in victory. He could almost put it together now, but he wanted to hear the story from both sides anyway, just to be safe.

"When they leave, I'd like you three to come into my office as well. Now, if I understand it, you three haven't had dinner and I suspect that when you're released, dinner will be done." He flicked his hand, conjuring three full plates on the tables. He left the room with a small smile, but entered his office with a stern expression. The way their heads turned- quirky, smooth and confident -he continued to believe that the typical Slytherin mischief was afoot. He strode past them and into his desk, sitting down as he inhaled. He looked at them, his blue eyes staring at them.

"Now, I'd like you both to begin by telling me what you were doing in the hallway, then continue on."

The boys looked at each other for a moment, their dark eyes seemed to communicate a plan.

"We were going to dinner when they came up behind us-"

"That Half- _McGonagall_ girl," Albus noted the slip up, and instantly theorized that the Pure-blood fanatics claimed a hatred of Miss McGonagall's talent, especially because her father is a Muggle. "she called Abraxas out, then she did something-"

"It was horrible, Professor, we couldn't do anything! She didn't even have her wand out!-"

"She threw him across the room, I think with magic-"

"Broke his nose and his arm-"

"Then Professor Merrythought came in."

Dumbledore nodded. He had a pretty good idea as of what _really_ happened, but in his eyes, he didn't show it. "Very well, thank you both for your cooperation. You may both go back to the Great Hall and enjoy your dinner."

The boys smoothly glided out of their seats. He could already sense they would hiss at the girls, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Snakes would be snakes. He only had to wait a moment before the trio of promising Gryffindor girls walked into his room. He waved his hand, conjuring another seat, then motioned them to sit down. All three had very grave expression. Something had been said, words that pierced all of them deeply.

"I'd like you to begin with walking down to the Great Hall. How did you meet up with the three Slytherin boys?"

The girls were quiet for a few moments, but Rolanda spoke up first. She spoke with a slight tremor in her voice, "We had just finished our homework and went down to get dinner when they jumped out from behind the pillars. They started a banter they started earlier this morning and it escalated. Malfoy became angry and..."

"He called me a filthy half-blood-"

"Then he called out Poppy, bringing up her Aunt being a Squib, then he..." Rolanda stopped, her lip trembled. Poppy jumped from her chair and moved over to embrace her sister in comfort. Minerva squeezed her hand, signalling that she'd take over.

"He brought up her father's death; some think that he committed suicide because he couldn't handle Rolanda not inheriting his Metamorphmagus ability, though some think he was murdered; either way, he brought it up."

"I lost it, Professor, I lunged at them but Min and Poppy held me back."

"Then he called my màthair a-"

"There's no need to repeat it, Miss McGonagall, I believe Miss Hooch has expressed what he said earlier." Minerva nodded in agreement. "What I'm curious about, is how Mr Malfoy broke his nose and shattered his forearm."

"No wands were out, Sir," Poppy said quietly. "They were close, but never pointed at each other."

"It was my fault, I think..."

"You '_think'?" _Professor Dumbledore raised a brow.

"I- I don't really know. It happened so fast that the only thing I heard before Malfoy started screaming was a loud bang."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly as he did. "I see. Miss Hooch and Miss Pomfrey, I'd like a private word with Miss McGonagall, if you please. You can either wait in the classroom, or in the Gryffindor Common Room."

They both nodded and slowly slunk away, though not without leaving a reassuring squeeze on Minerva's shoulder. The door closed behind them, and the green-eyed witch glanced up at her Professor, then looked away just as quickly.

"Miss McGonagall, I need you to answer me truthfully, can you do that for me?"

The young witch nodded, looking back directly into his eyes. He knew he could, there was something about her- maybe he saw a bit of himself -but it didn't matter.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now, tell me, McGonagall, have you ever lost control of your magic before when you were younger?"

"Yes, Professor, but not very often. The only time it acted without control was in saving my life, or when I accidentally said a spell while playing 'duel' with my brother," Dumbledore chuckled a bit, reminding him of when he did such with his own brother back in the day, "but other than that, Sir, I have complete control. I'm even been able to manipulate objects, hover them around me, as you saw this morning."

Albus could feel his eyes widen a bit in wonder. "Would you care to show me again?"

Minerva stood up and looked around for an object to float. She spotted a small golden ball on top of a bookshelf. "May I levitate your Snitch, Sir?"

He nodded and began to stroke his auburn beard subconsciously. The witch stared intensely at the ball then lifted her hand up halfway, as if reading a book. Instantly, the small golden ball flew to her hands. She lowered them and hovered the ball around the room. Dumbledore grinned as the witch took things another step further; Books, quills, trinkets and more floated around the room, circling around her. She let this continue for a few moments, demonstrating her control, then returned every last item to their original spot, save the snitch, which fell into her palm. Minerva looked back at her Professor and smiled softly.

"You see, Professor," she stretched her hand out to give him back the golden ball, "I know how to control and use my magic. That's why I'm unsure if I really did hurt Malfoy." He took the snitch back into his hand, but kept her hand with his own for a moment. His grin faded with the mood of the topic. "I didn't _feel_ the magic go through me like it usually does, in fact, I hardly felt it at all. It happened so quickly, I've never experienced anything like it."

Albus Dumbledore bobbed his head slowly as released her and turned around, looking out the window. Minerva couldn't take her eyes off him. He held her fate and punishment. Again, he stroked his short beard in thought as he stood there for nearly five minutes, thinking. He knew the young witch would be getting nervous, he couldn't blame her. He'd have been downright terrified of expulsion. At last, the professor turned around, his blue eyes twinkling as he did.

"Am I expelled, Sir?"

"No, I think not. There has never been a first year that has ever been expelled from Hogwarts due them losing control their magic, and you will not be the first." Relief was visibly shown throughout her body from the news, he nearly smiled seeing her so happy. "However, seeing as your advanced skill of wandless magic; yes, I dare say advanced. I am sentencing you to after school lessons, at least two hours, one night a week, until the end of your second year, to help you control your magic and learn of how to harness it so this doesn't become a repeated incident. As for Mr Malfoy, I'll be sentencing him to detention in the Forbidden Forest, hopefully that will teach him to _never_ say such things about _anyone_. Now, you best be on your way or else your 'sisters' will wonder what I hexed you with. Oh, and Miss McGonagall, if anyone asks what your punishment is, it is detention."

He winked at her, forcing a smile upon her face as she giggled softly.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," she said, and left his office. Minerva ran to the classroom, sensing her sister's from there. They're face lit up upon seeing her.

Poppy was the first to speak, "What did he say?"

"You didn't get expelled did you?" Rola asked rather quietly. She'd been quiet the entire wait, rather unusual for her, even during something so suspenseful.

Minerva shook her head and smiled. "No, but I did get a form of detention."

The two looked at her in disbelief, not out of her punishment, but of her reaction. Her smile was beaming with wicked pride.

"So, what exactly does this _'form of detention'_ entail?" Poppy inquired.

"Training of my wandless magic so that I can prevent accidents like this. It's two hours for one night a week, but it lasts 'till done with my second year."

"Two years? That's crazy!"

"But it's better than expulsion." Poppy glared at Rolanda, who nodded in reluctant agreement then stifled a yawn. "I think it best if we get some sleep."

"Well then, off to the Gryffindor Tower!" Rolanda raised her arm, pointing her finger forwards and marched comically down the hallway.

Her two sisters glanced at each other, sharing a _'Oh, why not?' _thought, then copied Rolanda.

"Onward to the Tower of Lions!"

The trio let out a comical roar, then burst into laughter which only came to a halt when the Fat Lady asked them for the password. When they entered the common room however, things were not so cheery. There were at least twenty Gryffindors out of bed, and every single one of them looked at the trio when they walked into the room. Minerva spotted Augusta relatively easily, the blonde haired girl made her way from the crowd and towards them.

"It's not true what they said, is it?" she asked quietly, almost in a whisper.

"You'll have to be a little more specific, Augusta," Poppy said with a bit of an edge in her voice, one that the green-eyed witch didn't blame her.

"Those two Slytherin boys, Colin Avery and Sebastian Lestrange, they said that Minerva attacked Abraxas Malfoy, and that you're expelled."

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Yes, but-"

"No." Minerva shook her head then directed her voice to the crowd. "No, I'm not expelled, nor did I attack Malfoy unintentionally. Yes, my magic went off and I broke his nose and shattered his arm-"

"But it was no less than what he deserved!" Rolanda spat.

"Nevertheless," a Gryffindor Prefect marched forward a few steps to confront them, "using magic to attack another student is not tolerated within Hogwarts."

"Oh, shut up, Algie, they've probably been hounded by Dumbledore enough already." Augusta stood her ground against her brother quite well, Minerva concluded, giving her a smile of gratitude when Algie turned around, grumbling orders for everyone to go to bed.

"Between you and me, I won't be surprised if he's Head Boy next year," Augusta whispered quietly, still holding a smirk on her face when she turned towards the three girls again. "I had a feeling what those boys were saying was a load of rubbish anyway, they're Slytherins, everyone knows you can't trust what them snakes say. Oh, and Minerva, I fed your cat for you, he was quiet a persistent fellow, wouldn't let me go out the dorm without feeding him."

The dark haired witch laughed, "I better go up and give him some attention before his whiskers get in a knot and he has a row with me!"

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><p><strong>I stated it before, but I will say it again: there will be no MMAD during Minerva's years at Hogwarts.<br>**

**~LinK**


	7. Let it Begin

_**Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way**_

_**I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day**_

_**Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret**_

_**Tell the ones, the ones I loved**_

_**I never will forget**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6 - Let it Begin<strong>

**September 3rd, 1937:**

Minerva awoke to the typical prodding of a certain, extremely persistent, fluffy creature. She giggled softly as his paws began kneading on her back and the little motor-like purr increased in sound, echoing through her ears. The young witch closed her eyes for a minute, enjoying the lovely massage and allowing her mind to relax. Yesterday had been chaotically long, not because of the classes, but what happened after. _Damn those Slytherins and their anti-Muggle mindset._

Feeling Mico stop his prodding and jump to the floor, she frowned but got up anyway to feed the little rascal, then proceeded to wake her sisters gently. Both were not nearly as excited to wake up either, last night proved difficult to let sleep take over; all of them were thinking about their past and family. Minerva made sure Augusta was awake as well, she owed her that much, and sure enough Augusta was awake with her fat tuxedo cat was purring around her heels as usual. They all headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast and as predicted, the three Slytheirn boys were still busy spreading their tale of how Minerva attacked them- each retell being slightly different than before. To her relief, most of the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors realized it was the typical Slytherin hogwash and ignored it, though a few Ravenclaws were less inclined and the Slytherins were eager to devour anything and everything which made any half-blood's- especially one with a Muggle parent -reputation sour.

"Oh look, it's Gryffindor's feral cat!" Lestrange shouted so most of the Great Hall could hear.

"Don't listen to him, he's just looking for a fight to get you expelled," Poppy hissed in her ear as she pulled Minerva down to the table.

"I know that, but it doesn't make things any easier."

"True."

After breakfast, the first year Gryffindor's made their way to their Transfiguration class, followed by the Hufflepuffs. Minerva caught sight of Pomona again and waved before sitting down in her seat. Professor Dumbledore entered the classroom, his fluorescent robes flowed behind him gracefully as he strode down the rows of seated students with a smile.

"Good morning, everyone. Welcome to Transfiguration, and as you all know, I'm Professor Dumbledore. Now, before we begin," his warm smile vanished, replaced with a serious stare, "You must know that Transfiguration is one of the most dangerous and complex magic you will ever learn here. I can teach you to transform a desk to a pig, conjure furniture, vanish any object and- if you have the potential -transform your very body into an animal."

Minerva's eyes shot up. _It can't be true, can it? I could really become a cat? Looks like poor Gracie will have to learn two new sides of me after all!_

"Needless to say, anyone who fools around in my class will leave and never come back." His smile reappeared with a small clap of his hand. "Now, let's get started, shall we?

With a wave, several matches appeared on every desk. Looking down at her own, it took everything she had not to grin with a bit of confidence.

"Today, you will be attempting to transfigure your match into a needle. Now, repeat after me..."

Minerva mumbled the incantation, trying to appear as if she hadn't heard it before. The next step was the wand movement, which she just did with a flick of her wrist instead of weaving the rod though the air, then came the actual spell.

"The first student to transform their match to a quality needle will receive five points. You may begin."

Instantly, the young witch waved her long wand with grace, ease and perfection as she said the spell,_ "Lignum Acus."_

The small wooden stick changed into a sharp, metallic pin. She smiled, looking around the room, noticing everyone was just getting started. She caught Professor Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes staring at her.

He smiled, "Ah, I see Miss McGonagall has it on the first try, five points to Gryffindor!"

Had she been other student, he might have awarded ten, but he knew Minerva's extreme natural talent with magic, and awarded her by keeping that in mind

"How did you do that?" Rolanda gasped, her own match had only changed color. Minerva shrugged and watched Poppy wave her wand for the third time.

"_Lignum Acus!"_ The match did exactly what it was suppose to do, morphing into the sharp, thin silver stick. "I did it! Min, I did it!" Poppy tugged at her sister's sleeve in excitement.

"Do I hear that we've had another success?" Dumbledore hovered near their desk, "I see you have indeed, congratulations, Miss Pomfrey. It's very rare for students to get this spell on the first few tries. See to it that you keep on track with Transfiguration, my dear, you have an aptitude for it."

Poppy blushed as Professor Dumbledore strode off to help a Hufflepuff who had managed to splinter his match and turned towards Minerva. "He's giving me more credit than it's worth, he should have applauded you like so, not me."

The green eyed witch rolled her eyes. "Oh please, he has a right to praise you. It took me a few tries to get mine right as well, so we're even."

Poppy chuckled, "Minerva, I don't think we could _ever_ be even."

In History of magic, Professor Binns nearly talked the entire class to sleep, all but Minerva and Poppy, who had to consistently wake Rolanda up so she would take notes. The subject was fascinating, but having a ghost as the teacher made things dull, to say the least.

Thankfully, Charms was a much more active subject. They learned the hover charm, which Minerva perfected within a few tries. Augusta however, managed to explode her feather. It was relatively minor damage, mind you, but Augusta was in a foul mood the rest of the evening. Both Poppy and Rolanda showed promise in the subject, to their delight, and Poppy scoured the book with much excitement.

If there was anything that Rolanda was looking forward to today, it was their Flying lesson, not that she needed it, mind you, it was just an excuse to get on the broom without causing destruction everywhere. Minerva had to admit, it was good to escape the gravitational prison once and awhile. Poppy, however, barely managed to lift her feet off the ground, mainly due to her persistence of not allowing the broom to lose control.

As the sun began to fall, Minerva grew increasingly aware that her 'detention' time was near. With a slightly excited heart she left her sisters at the Gryffindor Common Room and made her way to the Transfiguration Department. When she got to the doors, however, she found them locked. Although the young witch knew the spell to unlock them, she decided against it since she was a student, and waited with her back against the door. A few minutes passed by and Minerva began to worry if she accidentally got the wrong time when she heard Professor Dumbledore's voice yell in the classroom, followed by another voice which sounded like it was from the Floo network, slightly crackled from the flames.

"What the hell are you doing, contacting me _here?"_

"I fount it, Albus, I found the wand!"

"So, why are you contacting me? I thought I made it _very_ clear to you, nearly forty years ago, that I wanted nothing more to do with your plans."

_Forty years ago? What happened that was so special forty years ago?_ Minerva wondered silently. _Certainty nothing that's in our history books at-least..._

"You're not the _least_ bit curious? Come, come now Albus, you can't have changed that much."

"Don't _toy_ with me, Gellert, you've done enough!" Dumbledore's voice spiked with rage, an emotion she hardly thought possible from the man...

"Ah, I see you still harbor resentment against me... a pity. I was going to ask you to join me, you know?"

_Join him?_

"Then you don't know me at all anymore, my friend. Now, I must bid you farewell, as I have work to do."

"Alb-"

That was the end of it, Dumbledore cut off the network. She could hear his footsteps quickly making way out of his office, then heard the door unlock. Minerva paused and gulped silently, feeling slightly embarrassed for hearing what seemed to be a rather personal argument.

"Come in, Miss McGonagall, I know you're there."

Minerva did as she was told, hesitantly opened the door and stepped through. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, Professor, I just came here for the lesson and noticed the door was locked so I waited."

"I know, Miss McGonagall, it's all right. I should have placed a Silencing charm on the room anyhow. You waited?" He smirked then chuckled softly, "I would have opened it at your age- and don't tell me you don't know what the charm is because I have a sneaky suspicion that you do."

Minerva realized her jaw was gaping open slightly and quickly closed it, knowing there was a small blush on her cheeks. "I didn't think it appropriate considering I'm a student."

Dumbledore merely shrugged and waved the door shut. "We should get started with your lesson. Tell me, Miss McGonagall, did your mother teach you on your magic before you came to Hogwarts?"

Minerva narrowed her eyes at the mention of Isobel and avoided eye contact with him as she responded shortly, "No, Sir, I learned on my own. My màthair didn't teach me, in fact, she condemned the use of magic."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore snorted in amusement, covering his mental thoughts, "So you rebelled against authority by figuring out your natural talents?"

Minerva nodded slowly, looking at the floor. She began to play with her hair; having not expected much talking about her personal life, it made her uncomfortable.

"How long have you been concentrating on your magic?"

"Most my life all I've done was controlling it, until this summer that is."

"Would you mind me asking what made you change tactics?"

"My family went to Loch Ness over the summer, Sir, and I hated it there."

"Loch Ness has a very powerful ancient ward placed around it, Miss McGonagall, are you sure that's where you went over the summer?"

Minerva looked at him with a slight glare in her sparkling green eyes. "I'm positive. I slept in the castle, swam in the lake and crossed over that dreadful ward."

"But that doesn't explain how you were able to practice, my dear."

"I-" the young witch bit her lip, "To be honest, Professor, I'm not sure you'd believe me, even if I told you."

Dumbledore smiled softly, his sapphire eyes twinkling as he did. "Miss McGonagall, I think you'll find that I have a very open mind. Try me."

Minerva sighed, now looking at her feet and twirling her hair as spoke quietly, "I created an anti-ward around myself." She waited for him to respond with a sound, an expression, _anything,_ but there was none. He just stared at her, the twinkle in his eyes died out, and didn't he make a move, so she continued, "I couldn't let go of my magic, it was painful- and this is all guesswork -but I think my magic performed with what I needed to survive."

The Professor didn't speak for a while. He began slowly pacing around the room, making Minerva slightly uncomfortable. She backed up against his bookshelf and stood there, watching him. The man was thinking, that was all very clear, but why he was pondering what she said so intently, she couldn't tell. Nearly five minutes passed, he still had not said a word and, against her better judgement, Minerva spoke up, "Professor?"

Dumbledore immediately stopped in his tracks and looked up at her, his eyes had nearly lost the twinkle she had started to become familiar with as he spoke, "Hmm? Oh, sorry, Miss McGonagall, I left you, didn't I?"

Minerva smirked softly, "For five minutes, Sir."

The Professor shook his head and sighed, "Forgive me, I tend to do that when in deep thought." He reached into his pocket and pulled out two small candy-like ovals. "Would you care for a Sherbet Lemon?"

The witch nearly fell out of her chair in surprise. "A what?"

"It's a Muggle candy that I've developed a fondness for. Here, try one."

Placing the candy within her mouth, she let the flavor soak through her senses. She didn't know what it was about the candy, but it made her smile. Dumbledore conjured a small chair then motioned for her sit.

"Have a seat, Miss McGonagall, we should get on with your lesson."

Minerva frowned, realizing that Professor Dumbledore changed the topic- deliberately avoiding questions about his thoughts -so, she sat down, still toying the candy with her tongue.

"Now, close your eyes."

The witch's brows furrowed in confusion, "Sir?"

"Close your eyes," he calmly repeated. Having never been told to do something twice, Minerva did as instructed as Professor Dumbledore began pace slowly around her. "Yesterday you showed me your prowess for levitating multiple objects, however I noticed that you had to see the object before moving it. So, today we'll work on moving an object you can't see."

"I don't understand, how does this help me control-"

"How well do you know the room, Miss McGonagall?"

Minerva nearly fluttered her eyes in confusion, though she recovered quickly and calmly replied, "Sir, it would all depend on what you want me to find."

Dumbledore laughed. "My dear, there was a reason the Sorting Hat took so long to sort you, full of clever wit. Now, focus that clever mind of yours to find something for me. I seem to have lost my quill and I simply can not grade your homework without it!" The young witch giggled, hearing the rather obvious sarcasm in his voice, "And you're the only one who can find it for me."

She heard the slight whistle of his wand weaving through the air, then felt a soft ribbon being tied around her head, covering her eyes. "But, Professor, how do I find an object I can't see?"

"Where is my desk to your relative location?"

"Behind and a little to my left."

"That's right," Dumbledore continued his circle pace around her, making her nervous again. "Did you know that your shoulders hunch up slightly, you fiddle with your hair and your fists clench when you're nervous."

The witch immediately sat up straight and snapping her arm down to her side, she could feel her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "You've been observing me?"

"Oh now, don't look too surprised, it's my job to gauge your reactions. It'll come in handy in our future lessons- but back to the task at hand." Again, Minerva noted his tendency to verge the subject away from his thoughts as the professor instructed her, "Use your mind to decide where to activate your magic."

She cleared her mind, focusing on the task at hand, and thought hard to remember the Transfiguration room's layout and where exactly she was from his desk, before igniting the warm spark that coursed through her veins and propelling it behind her, but nothing happened. She tried again, and again, but to no avail.

"Don't give up, McGonagall, nor fall to quickly into disappointment. This is a rather difficult task."

Minerva noted the drop of her title, and smirked. "Just because it's difficult, doesn't mean it's impossible."

She could swear that she heard him mumble something under his breath about having said the same thing at her age, before chuckling then telling her to concentrate. The young witch obeyed, trying again and again, until she could feel an object at her grasp. She tugged at it, using her hands to emphasize and aid the effect until a bundle of books tumbled to the floor. Minerva frowned and attempted to try again, but Dumbledore's voice distracted her and she gave up the attempt.

"Impressive," his voice hummed with approval as his hands untied the ribbon. "I'll admit, I didn't expect you to move anything tonight."

As the silky fabric slithered down to her hands, Minerva opened her emerald eyes and twisted her body around to face her professor, clutching the ribbon as she did.

"You didn't?" she asked.

Professor Dumbledore's auburn beard shook with his head as his eyes twinkled. "I should learn to expect the unexpected with you, shouldn't I, McGonagall?" Minerva giggled softly, glanced at the clock then her eyes widened in surprise of the time. Where it had gone, she wasn't sure. "Ah yes, it is about that time, isn't it? Come, I'll walk you to the tower."

They neared the exit of the Transfiguration classroom towards the door in silence and her face grew serious once more as multiple questions revolved in her mind.

_This isn't normal training to keep emotions from interfering..._ The young witch wasn't sure what made her think that, maybe it was Professor Dumbledore's distant behavior before the lesson, she wasn't sure. _It's not because of my magic losing control anymore, I can see it in his eyes. He tends to expect more from me, yet, he doesn't want- no -he __**can't**__ say what it is. Fear? Maybe, though doubtful. He was surprised as what I accomplished today, not expecting it, but he accepted it graciously. Why? Why is he so pleased with what I accomplished?_

"Did I really surprised you that much, Sir?"

Dumbledore nodded, though he didn't look at her and continued to walk her towards the Gryffindor Tower. Minerva bit her lip, not entirely sure how to ask what was going through her mind properly.

"If you don't mind me asking, Sir, why are you doing this?"

Now he looked at her, but didn't stop walking, "I beg your pardon?"

Minerva swallowed, hoping she didn't sound too argumentative. "I don't mean to sound unappreciative, because I really do appreciate you taking the time Professor, but why me? There are multiple other students that are brilliant with magic in my year, why me?"

Dumbledore slowed his walk, and to the young witch's relief, he finally stopped his pace then looked at her again. His sapphire eyes stared into her own as if he was reading her thoughts and deciding what to say that could calm her worries. She held his gaze for a few minutes before she realized she had begun to twist her hair with her fingers again and quickly put her hand back at her side.

"Maybe in time, I'll be able to tell you, my dear, as I'm not sure if you'd understand, with you being so young." Minerva opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, thinking it best not to retort his decision. Her professor seemed to pick up on her doubts and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know this is alot to ask, considering you haven't known me very long, but I plead you to trust me, Miss McGonagall, because one day these lessons could be life changing."

Minerva's brow furrowed with confusion, yet, she found her head bobbing in agreement. _What is it about this man that makes me trust him so easily?_

Dumbledore sighed softly in relief and added a soft smile. "Thank you, your trust means more to me than you know. However, it's getting late and you still have a busy day tomorrow. Good night, Miss McGonagall, until next week."

The dark haired witch nodded in agreement, then said her farewell, "Good night, Professor Dumbledore."

She watched him strode away for a moment, before muttering the password to the Fat Lady and began crawling through the hole when she placed her hand upon the cold stone wall and she felt the soft fabric still in her hand. "Oh- Professor!"

Minerva dashed down the hall, her heals softly clicking as they hit the stone floor. "Professor Dumbledore!" She skidded around the corner, nearly crashing into him in the process.

"What ever is the matter, McGonagall?"

Minerva lifted her hand, dangling the red ribbon in her open palm, "I- uh... I forgot to give your ribbon back, Sir."

Dumbledore smiled with an emotion the young witch couldn't understand seeing the two ends of the ruby fabric frame her face. It complimented her emerald green eyes perfectly. And there he went again, lost in the abyss of deep thoughts.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" The wizard's sapphire eyes blinked and he came back to reality.

"Nothing, Miss McGonagall." He clasped his hand around her own, closing her fingers around the ribbon. "Keep it, my dear, I think you'll get more use out of it than I do. Besides, it contrasts your eyes beautifully." He lowered her hand softly "Now, you really must be off to bed and I really must get back to my office. Good night."

Minerva stood there for a moment, just watching Dumbledore walk away, then looked down at the ribbon and smiled, his words echoing in her mind,_ '...you fiddle with your hair and your fists clench when you're nervous... you'll get more use out of it than I will... it contrasts your eyes...'_

She didn't hesitate. In a swift movement, she floated the fabric in the air as her hands rounded up the long ebony mane, pulling it into a tail which swished like a cat's. The ribbon levitated into her free hand, as she looped it around, tying it into a small bow. Satisfied, she walked back to the hole.

"My, my, don't you look pretty," sweetly chimed the Fat Lady as she opened the door. Walking down the steps, Minerva could hear her sister's thoughts ignite upon hearing her footsteps.

_She's back!_ Rolanda sang gleefully.

_She knows she'll have to tell us everything, right?_

_No, but I do now. Thanks for the warning, girls._

She heard their laughter echoing down the stairwell from their dorm room. Rolanda, of course, was in the lead and tackled Minerva as she sprung off the last step, "We finished our Transfiguration homework while you were gone!"

Minerva raised a brow in disbelief. "All by yourself?"

"Er... yeah, well..."

"She really needed the help, Min, you should have see her. It was rather amusing, she couldn't make the match stop splintering!" Poppy chuckled. "So how was your '_detention'_ with Dumbledore?"

Minerva pursed her lips. "It was rather frustrating to be honest, I had to make an object, that I didn't know the location of, move by magic, while under a blindfold."

Rolanda whistled, "Bloody hell."

"He didn't expect me to move anything tonight, but I managed to topple over a few books."

"Always the over achiever," Poppy said with a smile, "And as proud as we are, it's getting late and we have school tomorrow!"

* * *

><p><strong>I found the title rather appropriate and amusing, you'll eventually see why! I love Dumbles, he's so fun to write!<strong>

**Happy Holidays everyone, and please review!  
>~LinK<strong>


	8. Addictive Lemons

_**Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way**_

_**I glory in the sight, as darkness **__**takes the day**_

_**Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret**_

_**Tell the ones, the ones I loved**_

_**I never will forget**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7 - Addictive Lemons<strong>

**September 9th, 1937:**

Minerva grabbed her Transfiguration book and plopped on her bed. It had been a week since her lesson with Professor Dumbledore and all she'd done was study anything and everything she could get her curious hands on; focusing on homework, spells, reading and floating objects in her grasp with her eyes closed in order to get a sense of how to move things without seeing them- it was harder than it sounded.

The witch flipped through the pages, finding chapter three and scoured over the pages of material she knew by heart, though no matter what she tried, she couldn't keep thinking back to the dreaded letter she received from the Manor this morning. Yesterday, she'd finally written a letter to home, informing them that all was well and that she'd been sorted into Gryffindor with Poppy and Rolanda and at breakfast this morning, she received the reply.

Minerva closed the book, fetched the letter from her lamp desk and ripped the seal. Her fingers trembled as she tore the letter from it's shell and as she opened it, her eyes fell upon the familiar cursive handwriting of her father.

_My Darling Minnie,_

_I'm very glad that you've written to us. When the owl came in, Cayden scrambled to the letter and Malcom chased after him throughout the house for about a half-hour, you'd have loved to see it._

_I had to have your màthair clarify what your classes meant in magic terms and to be quite honest, Transfiguration sounds intriguing! You'll have to tell me all about it when you come home in December, I know Malcom and Cayden are dying to hear all about it as well. They won't leave your poor màthair alone with questions!_

_Speaking of which, what's the Gryffindor Tower like? Your m_àthair_ can't tell me much, she says other houses aren't allowed to be in other House Common rooms. (I find that rather odd, mind you, then again, what do I know of the wizarding world, right?) Although, she does tell me that Gryffindor is for the brave, loyal and courageous. I thought this sounds just like you, you'd go for magic over books any day._

Minerva snickered at how right he was, but at the same time, how wrong with his idea of what separates the qualities.

_Cayden asks if you miss him and he's very anxious to see you again (I keep telling him that you'll be back for Christmas but he either never listens to me or keeps hoping that you'll come home sooner) Malcom says that he's keeping Cayden out of trouble and can't wait to see what spells you've learned (your màthair keeps telling him that you won't be allowed to use any magic once your here, but like his brother he doesn't listen)._

_We miss you very much and hope that you're enjoying yourself. _Send us a letter as soon as you can._  
><em>

_Hugs and kisses,  
>Papa<em>

There was only one thing stood out in her mind; her father had failed to mention anything about Isobel's feelings towards her daughter being placed in Gryffindor. _Great, just great. I'll probably get a howler from dear Màthair next time._

_**Slam-**_ Minerva jumped, nearly tossing the letter aside in the process, as she swung her head to face the startling sound. The dormitory's door was wide open and a familiar hawk-eyed girl came dashing through, positively glowing.

"I SIGNED UP!" she grabbed her friend by the shoulders excitedly as she shouted, "I SIGNED UP TO BE GRYFFINDOR'S NEW KEEPER!"

"Rola, that's fantastic!" Minerva flung her arms around the girl, trying to keep the letter out of sight, but it didn't work.

"What's that?" Rolanda inquired as they broke away.

"Nothing, just a letter."

"A response from your parents?" Poppy said while coming though the door, she placed her bag down near her bed and walked towards her sisters. Minerva gave up trying to conceal it, the damage was already done and her sisters were relentless, sighed and gave the letter to Poppy in defeat. The rusty haired girl gave her a slightly puzzled look as she unfolded the piece of parchment. Rolanda, who has surprisingly managed to calm down from her exciting news, grabbed one side of the opened letter and the two read in silent unison.

The dark haired witch leaned against her bead post, her arms crossed and eyes staring into a candle's flickering flame. "It says nothing about Màthair's feelings."

Poppy shrugged. "It's also written from your father, that means he may have just forgot-"

"Oh please, Poppy, it's more like he made sure it didn't get placed in the letter-"

"Rola!" the rusty haired girl hissed in shock of her sister's bluntness.

"No, she's right Poppy." Minerva pushed off from the bed post and began to pace with agitation. "Papa only writes about Màthair's feelings if they're positive." Her nerves were getting the better of her and she knew it, yet, she couldn't help it. "Why do I even care? She's done nothing for me anyway."

"She gave birth to you and your brothers, isn't that's something?" the rusty haired girl said quietly with her honey glazed voice. Minerva narrowed her eyes, not sure if that was the answer or not, then slumped against her bed post.

"Life doesn't make sense," she said plainly as her dark hair fell out of it's poly tail.

Rolanda and Poppy both looked at each other and chuckled quietly. "Life never makes sense, especially with you."

"Good point," Minerva rolled onto her back, looking up at them with her dazzling emerald eyes. "So, when's tryouts?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, but their not letting anyone but Gryffindor Prefects watch. I think they want to keep who gets the position secret."

Minerva frowned, but shrugged it off. "Tomorrow I have to meet with Dumbledore anyway."

"Well kudos to you both," Poppy said with a chuckle, "but let's get down to business, shall we? We do have _several_ pages of homework..."

**December 19th, 1937:**

Minerva walked down the hallway a bit slower than usual, her hair swaying in the ribbon's tight hold like cat's tail. Even with all the excitement about Gryffindor beating Slytherin in a landslide- partially to do with Rolanda being the new keeper -she couldn't stop thinking about having to leave Hogwarts for the Manor of the Holidays. She still had no idea what her mother thought about her being in Gryffindor, she'd never written back. Part of her was ecstatic Isobel never wrote, apathetic to what she said anyway, but there was that small section in her heart that desperately wanted her mother to accept her for being the individual she was.

_So much for that idea,_ Minerva thought bitterly, _ You know she doesn't care about you like she does for Malcom and Cayd, but why? Did she want a boy as her first-born, and I failed that expectation? What is it that I failed to do? Nothing. That's what's wrong, Minerva, you did nothing. It's her own damn fault she doesn't love you for who you. Her loss, not yours._

Yet, even with these comforting thoughts, she could bring herself to smile as she turned into the Transfiguration class room. Professor Dumbledore was busy as usual, grading papers for his classes and Minerva took a seat, patiently waiting for him to finish. The seconds seamed to tick by like minutes and that annoying quill continued to scratch. She noted her hand come up for her hair, but quickly snapped down upon realizing nothing was there the grab. Her foot began to tap repeatedly up and down. She felt odd, something she hadn't felt before. She looked at the clock, barely two minuets passed by- it felt like an hour.

"Yes, Miss McGonagall?"

The witch looked up, seeing her professor still writing angered her and she wasn't sure why. "N-No, Sir."

Dumbledore looked up, dropping the quill as he did and his half-moon spectacles shinning in reflection. "What could possibly get you up in a knot, my dear?"

"I never said-"

"I know you didn't." He smiled softly, his charming blue eyes twinkled. "I've observed when you've grown upset, nervous, and angry, but I haven't seen you act tense before, it's rather amusing."

The young witch frowned in confusion, snorted and softly grumbled, "Amusing, am I?"

"I don't mean to offend, but yes, very amusing."

She didn't know whether to yell or laugh at the man, so she settled for neither and closed her eyes, wishing the tension to fly away. Professor Dumbledore's head tilted to the side in concern.

"Whatever is the matter, McGonagall?"

The witch stayed silent for a while, though she didn't stay in her seat. Instead, she slowly wandered around the room, aimlessly trailing her fingers across objects as she did. Minerva knew Dumbledore was watching her, but refused to let it bother her translucent state of mind. She spotted a jar of needles and walked over to it.

"Have you ever wondered why someone disliked you, yet, you have no idea why?" the young witch spoke with a shuddering calm voice as she used her magic to open the jar and levitated each individual needle into her hand.

Professor Dumbledore took off his spectacles and nodded slowly, beginning to see what the young girl was getting at.

"Indeed I have," was all he said, but Minerva paid no mind. She wasn't entirely listening to him, nor to anyone- not even herself.

"I can escape it all, here, in Hogwarts, but no where else."

Dumbledore raised a questioning eyebrow as he began to walk towards the young witch, his sapphire eyes twinkling with concern. "Escape what?"

"Her wrath, lies, false smiles and affection, I mean nothing to her. She's glad I'm gone, has my two brothers all to her self."

"Your mother?"

"My màthair, yes. Please, Professor, don't say that it's just a child's view, it's not. I read between the lines, I see and feel emotions in the atmosphere. I _know_ it's not a childish view."

"Minerva," something hit her when he said her first name that forced her to awakened her from her daze. She turned around, and looked him in the eyes, "not once have I ever suspected that you tend to think like a child, your far too mature, headstrong and powerful for anyone to think such of you. You remind me of myself when I was your age, you know."

"How did you handle it, Sir, leaving Hogwarts on the holidays, unable to use any magic?"

"It was hard at first. My brother wanted to know everything that I'd accomplished, what I'd learned, and at the time it was very hard to refuse. I just kept thinking that if I messed up, I'd never learn another spell again, and that my dear, is what got me through. I wanted to learn _everything_ imaginable, perfect anything I learned until there was nothing more I could possibly be taught."

Minerva smirked. "That does sound like me." She folded her fingers over her needle-filled palm and willed a spark to surge through her body. When she opened her palm again, all needles had become matches.

"You did that wandless," Professor Dumbledore mumbled, his eyes twinkling with a complex emotion she would never understand. The witch nodded while floating all but one match in the jar.

"Still surprised at what I'm capable of?"

Dumbledore laughed. "Forgive me, my dear, but after seeing the a few first years exploding their quills, it's hard not being surprised by anything you do." He reached into his pocked and pulled out a pair of light, candied yellow ovals. "Sherbet lemon?

**December 20th, 1937:**

The train whistle blew the five minute warning. Minerva held onto Mico tightly, not wanting him to get scarred while they boarded the train behind Rolanda and Poppy. She took a glance back, seeing Professor Dumbledore watching her. He gave her a wink of encouragement, then nodded his head once for her to go on. She smiled and nodded back in acknowledgement.

"Come on, Min, we need to get a cab before Rola finds one at the back end of the train, and you know how I hate that end!" Poppy pleaded, grabbing her friend's hand. Minerva laughed as they quickly walked though the compartments. Thankfully, they found an empty one near the center of the train. They settled in nicely, with Poppy on the far end to prevent motion sickness. Minerva let Mico loose though the compartment as they sat down, then looked out the window to see Dumbledore looking at her again and waved.

"It's just for Christmas, Min, your acting like you'll never come back."

Dumbledore waved back, then began to leave. Minerva shrugged at Poppy's comment. "If I had a choice I wouldn't leave at all." She slumped back into her seat. Mico waltzed up into her lap and snuggled with her, purring loudly.

"You don't want to see your family?"

"Of course I do! Cayden's learning to read and write now, it's an exciting stage, and Malcom's going to want to hear all about Hogwarts; it's Màthair, that I'm not entirely wild about seeing again, I'm in Gryffindor, not Ravenclaw like her. She's bound to not like that."

Rolanda twisted her flying top, and tossed it gently in the air as it twirled and danced, spitting out bits of harmless sparkling magic, "I bet she'll be ecstatic that you got into Gryffindor, Min. Scotland's royal flag has a lion on it, after all!"

"Don't worry, sis, there's not thing to be afraid of. What could possibly go wrong?" Poppy said, sitting by her friend and giving her a hug. Minerva nodded and gave them a small smile, despite the funny feeling she had in the back of her mind that something indefinitely would go wrong.

Mico nuzzled his head against her cheek lovingly, his light blue eyes open with love and support, forced Minerva's smile turned into a grin. She wrapped her arms around him gently then kissed his nose. She didn't think it possible, but his motor went up a notch, causing the trio to laugh.

"See, even Mico thinks everything will be alright! Now, who's up for some chess?" the hawk-eyed girl said excitedly, digging into her magically-extended bag and pulled out a chess board complete with the typical Muggle set, not moving pieces that argued with the players that Minerva hated with a passion. Poppy let the purring fuzzball saunter into her lap and together they watched the battling sisters with bemusement. An hour into the game and the food trolley delightfully came to their compartment. The girls eagerly bought their candy with holiday cheer; some Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bots' Beans, Fizzing Whizzbees and a few select items that the girls favored. Minerva bought a few Ginger Newts, Rolanda with a Ton-Tongue taffy, and Poppy with a pack of Peppermint Toads.

Putting aside the newts, Minerva dug into her bag, pulling out a rather large bag of soft yellow ovals. She popped one in her mouth. She ended up forgetting all about her troubles of returning home with the help those lemons, they had a tendency of doing such. Maybe it was because every time she had one she thought of her Transfiguration professor and his lessons, but she wasn't sure.

"Hey, what are those? I haven't seen those at Diagon Alley before." Rolanda said after she swallowed the last of her frog, then pointed to Minerva's rather large bag of small oval candy

"Sherbet Lemons, Professor Dumbledore sort of got me addicted, so he gave me a bag to take home for the holidays. You want one?"

"Yes, please!"

The dark haired witch laughed at her eager friend as she handed one over. It was amusing to see her reaction to the candy as she placed it in her mouth; at first she clearly didn't know what to make of it, but as time ticked by her eyes went wide with delight as the sour tang of lemon seeped through, coated over with sweet sherbet.

"Oh-my-god... Min, those are delicious! Absolutely be best candy _ever!_ Can I have a few more?" she begged, nearly jumping up and down on the seat as she spoke. Minerva laughed, shook her head with amusement, then placed the bag on the center side of the table near their chess board. She glanced at her honey haired friend who was taking her time sucking on a her peppermint toads while a certain persistent purring friend continued his attempts of getting a lick.

"Do you want one, Poppy?"

"No thank you, Min. I rather don't like the taste of lemon."

With a shrug, Minerva turned to her eager opponent, who's golden hawk-eyes were transfixed on the budging bag of Muggle candy and her fingers were wiggling with excitement to snatch her prey.

"Oh for Merlin's sake," she burst out in laughter and her hands flew up in surrender. "Have as many as you want!"

Rolanda dug her hands into the bag instantly, grabbing four or five in each hand and Minerva knew she'd regret saying that later. The entire bag was gone by the end of the train ride, implicating the dark haired witch to make a mental note to ask Professor Dumbledore where he bought the addicting candy.

When the train came to a halt, Minerva decided it best to put Mico into his cadge, not wanting him to get scared from the train whistle and all the people. All three unloaded their compartment and filed out the train along with everyone else onto Platform 9¾ where their families awaited anxiously.

"Happy Holidays everyone and Merry Christmas, Hanuka, Kwanzaa, or whatever you celebrate; just have a good time!" the conductor cheered merrily.

Minerva's feet landed squarely on the platform with her sisters right behind her, but instead of finding her family, she immediately went to collect her suitcase. Without the weightless charm, the bag would easily be over thirty pounds due to the multiple books inside- all thanks to Professor Dumbledore signing a permission slip that allowed her to bring a few from Hogwart's Library. She sighed, then turned around, half wishing her mother had forgotten. She could see her mother, father, Malcom and Cayden under the platform sign, exactly where Robert said they'd be in their last letter. The younger boy's bright green eyes lit up upon seeing her, grinned as wide as he could, then sprinted into a run after ripping free from Isobel's gentle grasp.

"Minvey!" he spread his arms out wide as he ran.

"Cayd!" Minerva dropped her bag, then knelt down a little to match his height, and embraced her beloved brother. Truly, she could be no happier with him in her arms.

"I missed you, Minvey," he mumbled with a solemn tone. Although he was clearly excited she was back, he was still trying to get over the fact she'd been gone for so long. Minerva tightened their embrace with mutual affection.

"I missed you too, Cayd," she kissed his forehead.

He looked up at her, a question brewing in his eyes, "Why did you leave for so long?"

"I had school Cayd, I can't leave unless for the holidays."

"B-but I don't like it when your gone..." his lower lip trembled as he spoke.

"Hey," Minerva lifted his chin gently,"I'm not gone now, am I?

"No."

"That's right!" Minerva touched the tip of his nose, then tickled his tummy. He hollered out a giggle, making her grin momentarily.

"Did you have a good time, Minerva?" her mother's voice interrupted them, forcing Minerva to hide a grimace. She released her brother to stare into Isobel's eyes, whose seemed to be uncharacteristically distance at the moment.

"Yes, Màthair, I did."

"Fantastic," Isobel then directed her voice to the girls behind her daughter, causing them to slightly shift uncomfortably, "How are you enjoying your House, girls?"

Poppy responded first, _"Gryffindor_ is great-"

"Professor Dumbledore's our Head of House-"

"He's an Animagus, but he has yet to show us or tell us what his Animagus form is yet, but-"

"Minerva really wants to become one and she-"

"And I'll have to wait until I'm a third year." the dark haired witch spoke to prevent Isobel from knowing about her lessons with Dumbledore. _She doesn't to know, in fact, it's probably best that she never does... prevent questions and a lecture about magic..._

Robert started laughing, and even more so when everyone looked at him with a puzzled expression on their face, "You girls really need to slow down and tell me all this later, cause I can't understand a word you just said!"

Minerva grinned, "We've got the whole break!"

"That's very true!"

"Oh, there they are!" Poppy said, waving to her left. "Come on, Rola, I see your mum with them as well! See you later Min!" she gave her sisters one last hug before they left on their holiday vacations.

"Bye sis, hang in there!" Rolanda whispered in her ear.

"You too, take care of Poppy for me!"

Rolanda laughed as she took after the rust hair girl. Minerva watched them leave with a small pang in her heart of unease. She was glad they were leaving with their families, but was less so about her not being able to join them.

"What was Hogwarts like Minnie?" Malcom asked as they walked away from the crowd, "Did you get to use magic? What did you do?"

Minerva opened her mouth, but before she could utter a word, her mother interrupted with a flat, dry and demanding voice.

"She'll tell you all about it later, Malcom."

Malcom moaned in disappointment while little Cayden copied him, slouching and stomping on the ground with an unhappy face. The little witch giggled with amusement as she put her hands in her pocket. Her eyes went wide with surprise when her hands found an wrapped candied oval hidden away. She took it out, gently twisted the paper away and was about to put it back into her pocked when she spotted writing on the inside.

_Help will always be given at Hogwarts for those who ask for it.  
>Merry Christmas<em>

_Ps: I figured you could use another..._

Minerva held her smile for the rest of the way home.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh, Professor, what have you done? Lol!<br>**

_**Lemons, lemons... **_**they're everywhere!**_** Lemons, lemons... **_**might you care?**  
><em><strong> Lemons, lemons... <strong>_**Dumbles takes a pair.**_** Lemons, lemons... **_**he won't share.**  
><em><strong> Lemons, lemons... <strong>_**lemony MMADness by the pound.**_** Lemons, lemons... **_**they make the world go around.**

**It's very true, you know, and I'm rather surprised that poem worked. Poems tend to not me very much.  
>Merry Christmas, everyone, and happy holidays!<br>~LinK**


	9. Mistrust

**_Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way_**

**_I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day_**

**_Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret_**

**_Tell the ones, the ones I loved_**

**_I never will forget_**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Like 'Màthair' is used for Mother, the McGonagalls use 'Seanmhair' for Grandmother.

**_OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!  
>J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's<em>**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8 - Mistrust<strong>

**December 24th, 1937:**

Minerva held a sleepy Cayden steadily in her arms as she walked into the kitchen. Isobel was already sitting at the table with a mug of steaming coffee and the news paper in hand. As the two children sat down at the table, Robert entered from the front door with an owl on his shoulder, along with a bunch of snow flakes, and a letter in his hand. The young witch noticed an emotion she'd never seen in her father's eyes before; fear.

"You'll never guess who sent you a letter, darling," he said, looking rather serious as he walked over to his wife. Isobel, with her long hair trickling down the side of her chest, put the news paper down. She grabbed her mug in one hand while adjusting her glasses with the other, revealing the confusion in her hazel eyes. Minerva didn't dare look as if she was eaves dropping, nor interested in the scene that played out before her. Instead, she appeared absorbed into a book from Hogwart's Library, though she did flash several glances in order to keep tabs of the emotional directions that turned. Robert didn't say anything more, he just gave his wife the letter and sat down beside her. The room seemed to shift into an ominous direction as her mother's eyes grew cold and severe when she read the sender's address. Her lips thinned, nostrils flared, and fingers trembled slightly as she opened the letter vigorously. Robert's hand clasped over her right hand in comfort as Isobel scoured the words which plagued the sheet of parchment as if the devil himself wrote it. At each word she crossed, she seemed to flinch- not physically, but mentally -as memories, decisions and flashes of possible future outcomes impaled her mind. The young witch couldn't decide if her mother wanted to breakdown, or fly into a rampage. Yet, Isobel did neither. She simply folded the letter back into its case, calmly returned her spectacles to their case, placed her mug down on the small table beside her and began to flee for upstairs.

"Izzy..." Robert's hand clasped with hers as his whisper echoed softly, stopping her for a moment- though only just -as she ran upstairs, leaving Minerva and Cayden bewildered and concerned.

"What's Màthair upset about?" Cayden asked his sister quietly. Minerva shrugged, not entirely caring about the cause. Robert sighed, and paced several steps with his fists balled up and shoulders hunched.

_Nervous and agitated, _Minerva noted silently. _Well, what do you know, Dumbledore's spoken notations on my emotions are catching on._ She smirked softly then continued reading her book, completely content with leaving her mother to deal with her problems unknown… for the time being at-least.

Isobel resurfaced by mid morning, though it was only to leave for the town market. Minerva had a funny feeling that her mother wasn't entirely telling the truth about her destination. She was going to a market, that was for sure, but not the town's. She tried to see or feel for any magical object, but it was hopeless. She made a mental note to ask Dumbledore if such a thing was possible, and if so, how to conduct it. Minerva begun to sincerely wish Rolanda and Poppy hadn't left for the Holidays, she desperately wanted to share her thoughts and theories on the recent developments of her family life, but she'd have to settle for spending time in Aquae Lament.

The young witch didn't see Isobel again until well past noon, and even then she hadn't stayed long enough to allow Minerva any chance to confirm her theories, or gain much information from emotionally related actions. Her mother locked herself in an unknown room- leaving not a word, sound for trace to follow -that not even the young witch could find. She suspect it was in the Enchanted Hallway- where all the rooms which the Manor's owner deemed unneeded, unused, or held secretes that wish to be remained hidden -but could never be certain. It was frustrating, to say the least- yet, at the same time it was vastly intriguing. Another mystery lay out in the open for Minerva to solve. Her brothers, of course, had either remained oblivious, or uninterested in the game; mainly due to their daydreams of what presents under the tree were theirs, and most importantly, what was in them. The young witch had abandoned that quest years ago, knowing she'd never get an answer to those questions until the dawn of Christmas morning.

It was only when the sun began slowly sinking behind the Highland Mountains that Isobel emerged from her hiding place, Gracie at her heals. The old grey kitty sauntered towards Mico, exchanged a sniff of noses, then curled up by the fire while Isobel absentmindedly watch her family eat with silence while walking down the stairs.

"Ah, there you are," Robert said with a gentle smile while he left for her side. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd have to come find you myself."

Minerva barely exchanged a glance to her mother and transfixed her eyes on the fire instead of her food. She heard a her parents begin to exchange quiet words and focused her concentration on listening in.

"We have five minutes, and knowing her, she'll be knocking on our doorstep the moment the clock strikes six."

"You've come to a decision then?" Robert asked quietly.

Isobel paused for a moment, struggling with how to answer properly. "Of sorts, but you needn't worry about that, in fact, it might be best that you _don't_, Robert, and I mean it."

"Alright darlin'." He kissed her forehead softly. They engaged in a few hushed tones between ears again before Robert raised his voice slightly, "Do you wish to announce it or shall I?"

No answer came as the clock chimed, and before Isobel could answer the front door opened.

"Merry Christmas, everyone."

Minerva turned around with a small smirk on her face, though it quickly disappeared upon seeing the arrival of a strangely familiar woman. Other than being much rounder and many years older, she was nearly an exact replica of her very own mother.

"Oh don't look so shocked, dearies, I know we haven't meet for a very long time, but come here, come here." The woman put down her bags as the house elves attended to her as if she was a family member.

Isobel cleared her throat. "Children, this is your seanmhair, Tradisi, my màthair."

It could have been Minerva's current foul mood against her mother that was warping her perceptions, but she could have sworn she detected an edge of bitterness to her mother's tone. It suddenly all made sense. Isobel was furious about her mother coming to visit.

The green-eyed girl took the first step, knowing her mother would particularly dislike it, and jumped out of her chair to greet the elder lady, who's black hair was slowly beginning to turn silver on the roots and her brown hazel eyes were a bit dull with age, yet, her smile was warm, gentle and inviting.

"Oh my, my, lil' Miss Minerva Margaret, you have grown-up since I saw you last; you were but a small toddler and slowly getting around on your feet! You look absolutely beautiful darling, just like your màthair did at your age."

The young witch could feel her cheeks blushing softly. "Thank you, Seanmhair, I'm glad to see you again."

"As am I, lil' darling- and who must you be?"

"I'm Cayden!" the little boy said excitedly, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. The woman chuckled, then turned to the taller boy standing behind his younger brother.

"So, you must be Malcom."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The woman smirked. "There's no need to be so formal, my dear boy, I saw you when you were a wee babe. So," the woman rubbed her hands together, "who wants to open presents?"

"It's not Christmas yet," Malcom spoke in a tone that was dryer than Minerva was used to. "We're not supposed to open presents until then."

Tradisi chuckled, then shook a finger in his direction. "Tisk, tisk, my dear boy. Seanmhair's presents don't follow the rules."

"I'm going to make some tea. Robert, would you care to join me?" Isobel asked quietly as she turned away towards the kitchen.

"Yes, I think I will."

The fact that both of her parent's left, Minerva thought was odd, but paid no mind. She and her brothers crowded around the fire place. Tradisi, on the other hand, pulled out a long wooden rod and waved it in the air. Instantly, a comfy chair appeared from thin air. The young witch's jaw dropped in awe.

"How did you- Can you teach me to do that?" She said, still trying to get over the shock.

The woman grinned. "I'd love to dearie, but if I'm not mistaken, you're at Hogwarts now?" Minerva nodded vigorously, and Tradisi let out an amused chuckle. "Well then, I think you'll enjoy your present."

A popping noise of a house elf Apparating near them filled the room.

"Master Malcom, Master Cayden," he bowed softly to them both. "Master Robert would like to see you in the kitchen for a moment."

"Aww, but we're about to open presents!"

"Come on, Cayden, you'll open them eventually." Malcom took his brother's arm and dragged him off to the kitchen as the house elf disappeared again, leaving Minerva glaring at the direction which they disappeared in.

"Just the two of us then?" Tradisi shrugged as if she wasn't surprised of the outcome. "Well then, no sense in waiting if your parents keep pulling you children away, shall we?"

She opened her blue, green and silver tartan bag, then reached inside, pulling out an ice cube size, wrapped box. Minerva cocked her head to the side in slight confusion.

_What in-the-name-of-Merlin, could fit inside such a tiny box?_ She quickly realized that her eyes had been deceived as the elder witch winked at her, took a deep breath, blew on the present softly. Her eyes stood, transfixed on the object as it began to grow, and grow, until it became as long as Minerva's arms.

"Enjoy, my dear." Tradisi handed over the box. Minerva gently tore at the wrapping paper, removing it bit by bit, surprised that there was no tape, until she was able to open the lid. Before her eyes, a dark blue and silver Quidditch robe stood before her. "Your mother was Ravenclaw's Quidditch Captain, and I have a feeling that you've inherited some of her skill, of not part of my own. In my time, I played as Ravenclaw's-"

"I- that's great, Seanmhair, but, I'm not in Ravenclaw," Minerva said quietly. Her words left the woman stunned, completely speechless for several moments, but she would have preferred the shock compared to what came next.

_"What?"_ was all the woman said, her face became distorted into some type of anger Minerva couldn't even hope to comprehend. It didn't even seem like an emotion, if anything, it was close to insanity.

"I... the Sorting Hat had a five minuet stall between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, Seanmhair-"

"Do not call me that!" she seethed, standing up and shaking her finger at Minerva. "How _dare_ you come into the Manor! How _dare _you even speak to me! You filthy-"

"That's quite enough, _Màthair."_ Despite being dreadfully calm, Minerva heard her mother's voice like a trumpet at the crack of dawn. "We'll continue this conversation in a moment. Minerva, it might be best if you join your father, he's in the Library." Minerva hesitated, feeling the negative energy spiking in the room and partially shocked at the sudden turn of emotions in the last few minutes. Part of her wanted to stay and hear everything, but her gut was telling her to flee and survive.

"Go, Minerva." It was an order this time, and the young witch didn't hesitate to quickly walk away. She nearly stumbled at first, but eventually made it up the stairs and around the corner, however, another thought gripped her and she stopped. _You're out of sight, Minerva, you can't just leave without answers!_ The young witch quietly walked back a few steps as she keyed her ears to eaves-drop again.

"Oh, I see what's going on now," Tradisi yelled, her voice continuously spitting venom with every word. "You think this is some kind of-"

"You have no way of knowing that, nor any proof. Robert is a very brave and kind-hearted man-"

"Which is precisely why I always believed that when you married that... _Muggle!_... one of your children would be a _disgrace_ to the family! I knew it when you _refused_ to ask him to take your name, and now we have a _Gryffindor! **A GRYFFINDOR!"**_

"Oh, would you stop your raving? Minerva said the sorting hat took an entire five minute hat stall deciding what house she should be in. Is that not Ravenclaw enough for you?"

"SHE ISN'T **_IN _**RAVENCLAW!" There was a crash of something, Minerva couldn't tell what, then a dreadful silence before Tradisi spoke again, "For over forty generations, the Ross family has been in Ravenclaw and now... _now..._" The mad woman became sinisterly calm; it was almost scary to hear how quickly her tone changed, almost like an emotional disorder. "You realize that you will have to _rid _her from the family, yes?"

Minerva's eyes widened, she could feel hot tears beginning to form in her eyes as she covered her gaping mouth. She started to back away from the hall, towards her room, with her heart thumping loudly in her ears, the heart that felt like it had been torn. Something told her to run.

"You can't be serious... y-you can't really be thinking that..."

Minerva's fists balled up hearing her mother's voice. _That's all you have to say? She threatens my life and that's- oh no. No, please, no... Màthair can't be considering it, she wouldn't..._ She felt sick and her head was spinning. She tried to steady herself against the nearby bookshelf, but it was no use.

"Oh, but I am, Isobel, I am _very_ serious. You know what you have to do. Take her out on a nice walk in the woods and _get rid of her._ It'll be pure and simple. Besides, if you don't do it, I'll remove your name from the will and you'll be left to nothing."

There wasn't a silence of contemplation before Isobel spoke, "Alright, _fine,_ but please, Màthair, let us go outside and talk about how exactly to conduct this..."

That was all Minerva heard before she walked out of earshot. She had to escape. Deafened by the sound of her blood pumping through her veins, she wanted to run but knew it would be to loud, so she walked quickly on the rugs instead of the wood floor until she reached her room. She opened the door and closed it very slowly so that not a sound was made, and then turned around. The witch wanted to cry, scream and yell, but she held it back, closing her eyes and forcing tears to slip down her cheeks as she prayed her plan would work.

_Quiet, I need the room quiet. I need to escape. I need to be silent..._

As she hoped, a spark of delightfully warm energy pulsed through her fingers as it expanded around the room. The witch didn't know exactly what the effect would be, she just knew that it would work. Dumbledore had faith that her magic worked under her in time of need, this moment would be no different. Quickly, she grabbed her snow boots, winter coat, scarf, map of Scotland, wand, and most importantly, her broom. Minerva looked up at the low sunset and began calculating the basic direction she needed to flee, when a particular fur ball pressed against her hands. The young witch lowered her gaze, staring straight at the pair of beautiful blue eyes that had captivated her from the moment she saw the furry creature.

"Oh Mico, I'm so sorry, you have to stay here. You'll be safe," she could feel her voice tremble as she spoke her farewell, "Cayd will take care of you, I know he will."

She heard a door slam. Mico jumped then rushed under the covers as Minerva quickly strapped on her gear, grabbed her broom in her left hand while holding her wand in the right.

"Minerva? Minnie? Darling, where are you?" Isobel's voice rang through the hall.

With her mind, the green-eyed witch willed the window to open ajar. She heard the door handle jiggled and instantly hopped on her broom, just in time before the door opened.

"Minerva-?"

The young witch turned her head around for a moment, seeing her mother's frightened eyes, then waved her hand violently to slam the door shut as she forced her broom through the window, then to take her south; towards Edinburgh, towards Hogwarts and towards safety. She flew into the forest, going into the sky would be a clear signal of where she was, and the Muggles of Caluim would see her. So, she landed down and began running across the snow. Her breath fogged in the air and her heartbeat was deafening to her ears. She ran until she couldn't muster the strength to move anymore. As the witched rested against a tree trunk, catching her breath, she realized the moon was full and nearly cursed.

"Footprints!" she heard someone that sounded like Mr Pomfrey exclaim several meters away. "Isobel, I found her footprints!"

Minerva's eyes snapped open wide_. The devil with the Muggle rule!_ she thought as she mounted on the familiar wood again. _Besides, it's dark and harder to see me... best way to go._ She kicked off the ground and soared into the sky. The air was colder than she anticipated, nevertheless, she continued to push on, not daring to look back. As the witch advanced on her broom the air chilled at her gloved fingers and frosted at her nose. In the distance, she began to see small yellow square lights, though as she got closer, they became houses with smoke stacks. Her reasoning of flying in the dark while Muggles were around came to an end. The lights were bright enough that, if she did not land soon, she'd be seen.

Carefully, Minerva lowered herself to the ground, which she found about three feet under the snow. Deciding against her better judgment in order to save her strength, she used her broom to zoom across the snow near a barn in the shadows. It was a relatively abandoned, save for a few pairs of eyes the glinted with the moon light from a few barn cats in a pile of hay. Minerva slowly walked around, not wanting to scare them or force them out into the cold. She found a pile of hay that didn't smell too bad, nor had any animals in it, so, she made herself at home. It didn't take long for sleep to come upon the witch, she was exhausted from the day's events, but when a little grey tabby kitten curled up on her chest and began to purr, all her worries faded away except for what Isobel would say to her sisters when they realized Minerva was gone.

* * *

><p>It was an odd feeling, to be awakened again from what seemed like an eternal slumber, even if she had never truly been asleep. No, she'd been conscious all of her existence, though when that started, she had no knowledge of. She believed it started when Minerva had been born, took in the first breath, or first began creating magic at as an infant, but she'd never been able to confirm it with all memories before the girl was four were extremely foggy. She wasn't even sure if Minerva knew if she existed, but that was all about to change. While Minerva's consciousness drifted into the sleep she so desperately needed, her worried thoughts of her sisters seemed to subconsciously activate the unknown entity inside her soul; the unknown, yet, ever present copied essence of the young witch herself.<p>

She began to hear something, _feel_ someone calling into Minerva's mind, pleading for something. Instinct controlled her process and she opened the channel the trio of girls had melded, searching for the source.

_Min? Minerva where are you? For goodness sake, answer us! We're just worried about you!_

_Bloody hell... Rola, you don't think she could be unconscious?_

_I don't know, I just don't know._

She didn't know what she was doing, she just knew she had to do something to lead them to Minerva. She tried to talk, but found her voice completely sealed, so she poured her feelings and thoughts into the channel, pleading for them to find the Muggle town.

_Come on, let's-...wait, Poppy, do you feel that?_

_Yes, it's faint, but it's a signal, near that Muggle town we passed not to long ago._

_Well then, let's move!_

Second past before she began to feel control of her thoughts. Actions raced through senses to flex and bend limbs unused. She blinked, opening her eyes to survey the barn Minerva found. She looked down at herself, examining the phenomenon in occurrence. She was an exact a copy of the girl, same clothes, hair in the tight ribbon, yet, her hands felt slightly empty as if deprived of something. She waved them at the door, commanding it to open like Minerva had done many times before, but nothing happened. She frowned, picked up Minerva's wand, then repeated it. This time the door opened.

_Interesting, can't use magic without a wand... Minerva will have to figure this out all out, but for now, it's off to find Rolanda and Poppy._

She smiled, then dashed out the door, surprised to see that dawn was vastly approaching. She'd taken longer to awaken than she thought. She scoured the sky with hope as she continued to feed the two girls the signal. In the east, a pair of girls on their broom sticks soared her direction. She began waving her arms, before realizing that her form was glowing softly. _Just another thing to investigate, _she thought, then put it out of mind. Rolanda landed first, then helped Poppy, who was still having trouble with landing, then they ran to, who they thought to be, Minerva.

She smiled softly, then raced back into the barn, silently willing her form to merge once more...

* * *

><p>"Minerva, wake up! Please, wake up!" Poppy's desperate voice rang through her mind, her emerald green eyes instantly snapped open and she sat up, "Oh, thank Goodness, I thought you tripped and fell unconscious!"<p>

"Wh-why would you think-" she sputtered groggily before images began flashing though her eyes; sending a signal to _her _sisters, wandless magic not working so _she_ grabbed the wand, seeing Rolanda and Poppy land on their brooms before running back into the barn. There was just one problem; she knew it wasn't her who had done these things. "Merlin's beard!"

"What?"

"Rola, was _I_ glowing a bit when waving at you near the barn?"

"I-I think so, why?"

"And Poppy, you thought the signal was weak, yes? There were no words?"

"Yes-"

"Did you think that odd? Both of you?" Now they were beginning to look frightened, and Minerva couldn't blame them, she'd be frightened too. "I can't explain it, but I know that wasn't me who did those things. It was... I don't know, but _she_ felt real, like a part of me... maybe she is, but that's beside the point. She lives in my mind and came alive when I needed help, when I was worried about you two!"

"Aside from thinking that you possibly hit your head too hard on something," Poppy gestured with her hands as if she wanted to shake something and mentally come to grip with what her sister was saying, "what in Merlin's name are you trying to explain?"

"There's an entity tied with my soul, she only come alive when I- or someone close -needs her, in a desperate time when my conscious isn't working. When she returns to me, and I wake up, I'll remember what she did, does that make any sense?"

"Not really, but being around you for so long, I've kind of given up on figuring out what makes sense anymore." Rolanda smirked, then wrapped her arm around Minerva's shoulders.

"Poppy, what do you think?"

The rusty haired girl began nodding slowly, trying to wrap her head around the incredulous idea. "I'm... working on it, but like Rola said, I should probably just give up trying to rationalize reality with you."

Minerva laughed in agreement. "Alright then, we just have one problem. I can't keep calling her, _'she'_ and_ 'it',_ so, any ideas?"

"How about, Avrenim?" Poppy spoke up.

"What?"

"Avrenim, A-V-R-E-N-I-M, it's your name spelled backwards." She smirked. "It's quite fitting, if what you say about her being a part of you is true isn't it?

Minerva grinned. "Poppy, you're a genius."

She shrugged. "Yeah, well, you've still yet to write me a memoir."

"Oh... speaking of memoirs..." Rolanda lowered her head and let go of Minerva. "Um, Min, your grandmother-"

_"Tradisi,_ Rola," Minerva spat the woman's name with a fiery passion, "she's not my seanmhair, not after wanting me dead."

Both girls blanched in speechless horror, gulped with glanced at each other, then looked back at their sister. "Well, then it's a good thing she's dead."

Minerva's eyes narrowed in confusion. _"Dead?_ What do you mean, dead? She was alive last night, screaming and yelling at Màthair and I! Are you sure she's _dead?"_

"Yes, Min, dead as a door-nail. Your mum found her in the guestroom bed last night and called the police. She died from a heart attack."

_"A heart attack?_ And that doesn't seem a bit odd? A witch dying from a heart attack is absurd!"

Rolanda shrugged, "Not to the Muggles and that's all that matters."

"But, Min, your mum's worried sick!"

She snorted angrily and shook her head. "She's not worried about me, Poppy. She accepted Tradisi's offer to take me on a walk I'd never come back from, and for what? To keep the Manor and the Ross inheritance!"

"Min-"

"No, Poppy, I know what I heard. She even came into my room to take me away." Minerva leaned against the barn post with her arms crossed. Not one of them spoke for a while, they just stood there in silence. A few barn cats sauntered around them, cautiously walking up and sniffing them. The grey kitten, whose purr relaxed Minerva asleep, jumped onto the railing near the dark haired witch. She gave it an ear scratch.

"So, what do we do now?" Poppy spoke quietly, the unusual honey glazed tone gone, replaced with numb fear and uncertainty.

Minerva lowered her head and sighed. "I'm not sure. I was planning on escaping to Hogwarts, but with Tradisi gone, I-I don't know."

"Your mum only agreed to... _it,_ because Tradisi threatened to take everything." Rolanda began pacing a little. "Now that she's gone, she'd have no incentive to carry _it_ out, right?"

Poppy nodded. "And even if you went to Hogwarts, they won't let you stay there over the summer, you'd have to return home eventually."

Minerva frowned, "I hadn't thought of that. Oh, Merlin, just end my suffering now..." she sighed, but nodded reluctantly. "Alright, I'll go back home, but so help me, if she thinks I'll act like the obedient daughter I used to be, then she's in for a surprise that'll knock her off her feet."

All three got to their feet and grabbed their brooms.

"How did you know I was missing anyway?"

"Er- your mum contacted our parents and we came straight home," the hawke-eyed witch said as she poised her broom for mounting.

Poppy frowned at her broom, still not entirely convinced they were safe. "We figured we could find you first and sort out what went on before anyone else did."

Minerva smiled gratefully and rounded them together for another hug. "I love you two, really, I don't know what I'd be without you."

They walked together into the forest before mounting on their brooms and flying in between the trees, with Rolanda and Minerva going slower than they'd like for Poppy's sake, using the foliage as cover from prying Muggle eyes. It took the trio about two hours to get back to Caluim, but the green-eyed witch didn't mind; the longer it took, the better. She drew upon her anger to keep her nerves from afflicting her, especially when they got near the end of the forest and had to dismount their broom to prevent Muggles from seeing them, but even more so when she saw Robert dash inside the house and return with a _very_ worried Isobel.

"Oh, thank Goodness, Minerva, you're back!" Her voice was unexpected; soft and relieved. She nearly ran, but upon seeing her daughter's eyes narrow into a rather hateful glare, Isobel stopped in her tracks, allowing Robert to advance ahead of her, and looked away either from shame or remorse.

Robert willingly embraced his daughter, hugging her tightly. "Where did you go, my darling Minnie? You had us frightened beyond our years!"

Minerva threw her mother an icy glare before speaking in a slightly cynical tone. "Out for a walk."

Isobel opened her mouth for a moment, her eyes appearing either hurt or terrified before closing them and lowering her head. "Go on inside Minerva, Cayden and Malcom will want to know you're alright."

She had spoken so quietly that all three young witches barely understood her, but nevertheless, the message was clear. Minerva was welcome back, and not in any immediate danger.

**January 10th, 1938:**

Minerva scoured the Library, searching for _something_ to answer her questions about Avrenim, where all her attempts at the Manor had been in vain. Part of her problem was not knowing what she really was, as a '_magical entity_' could be anything.

"Can I help you, Miss McGonagall?"

"Actually yes, do you know if there are any records on the Ross family here?"

Sir Shanks smiled. "As a matter of fact, we do, however you must answer my question first; why do you want to look up your own family records?"

The witch's eyes narrowed irritably. "Why does it matter? I would like to know what they are."

Shanks shrugged, sensing the little witch wasn't in a good mood for games, muttering, "Fair enough," and showed her to the Wizard's Records vault. He hardly had to search before he pulled out the, rather large, book with a golden label that said _'Ross'_.

"There you go," he handed it to her as he took out his wand and waved it. An identical copy stacked on top and he quickly grabbed it before the weight over whelmed the small girl. "You can keep that one, no one ever uses it anyway. In fact, the last one to use it was your mother and I don't see why you can't have a copy of your own family history. I have a feeling you'll get more used out of it."

Minerva gripped the book tightly with a smile. "Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome, now off you get, we close in two minutes."

Quickly, she gathered her things and walked towards the Transfiguration Department for her first after school lesson since she left for the holidays, and with the recent occurrences, she was rather looking forward to spending time with Dumbledore again. She waited for him to open the door this time, not wanting to eaves drop again. She didn't have to wait long.

"Good afternoon, Miss McGonagall."

"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore."

"You have a new book I see?"

Minerva smiled as she walked into the classroom. "Mr. Shanks gave it to me for keep, said I'd get more use out if than anyone else." Dumbledore chuckled and closed the door. "Professor, if you don't mind me asking, does _all_ the Staff know my màthair?"

He nodded. "Most, if not all. I myself knew her, although not as much as I do with you, but we had a good chat now and then. She was a seventh year when I started my position here."

"Did she ever strike you as the sort who could kill someone without thought?"

Professor Dumbledore nearly tripped in surprise. "Never," he said, then looked at her quite seriously. "Why do you ask, my dear?"

Minerva shrugged, playing off as her question wasn't important, and sat down in the chair she used for every lesson. Dumbledore frowned, not buying her act.

"Did something happen over the Holidays?"

The young witch narrowed her eyes. "I'd prefer not to talk about it, Professor." She looked up at him kindly. "I'm sorry, Sir, it's not that I don't trust you, it just-"

The professor held up his hand. "There's no need to apologize, my dear. If anyone, I should know that there are things which are best left unsaid." Minerva smiled softly in thanks. "Would you care to skip our usual chit-chat and get on with the lesson?"

Once again, the young witch was thankful for his ability to say exactly what she wanted to hear. "Yes, please."

"Alright," he took out his wand and conjured a fluorescent ribbon in her lap, "then I hope you've been practicing."

He waited for the young witch to tie the blind fold before continuing. "I seem to have lost my month's supply of Sherbet Lemons," he began to pace around her in the usual circle, "and you of all people would know that I can't go a day without them. So, if you'd be so kind, Miss McGonagall, to find and bring them to me."

Minerva smirked. "Only if I get a few as payment."

Dumbledore laughed. "I accept that bet. Now, concentrate."

She did as he asked, her brows furrowed and hands began moving around, using her magic to gently touch each individual object in the room and tell her what it was. She scoured the room, inch by inch, until she had covered the entire room, frustrated, she checked again, but to no avail.

"It's not here, Professor."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive, I checked everything twice." Her ribbon fell off, revealing Dumbledore standing in front of her.

"You are correct." He waved his hand, conjuring something onto her lap. "They were in non-being."

The witch looked down and smiled. "Which is to say, everything."

"Precisely, Miss McGonagall."

She laughed. "Sir, was your quill, coco-mug, grading book and everything else you've asked me to find, objects that you vanished?"

The professor nodded. "Indeed they were, except my quill, that was in my pocket."

"Merlin's beard..." Minerva laughed again. "Tell me, Professor, what exactly is the point of me finding objects that are Vanished?"

Dumbledore smiled. "To keep an open mind and learn how to control your magic when blind, which you've done a remarkable job, if I do say so myself," Minerva blushed then got up and collected her things, "but most importantly, learning how to let your magic communicate with you, as you did to examine each object in the room. It'll be quite a useful skill in your future, I think."

The young witch cocked her head to the side, having heard him say something similar before, while they began to walk out of the classroom. "What do you see me as, in the future, Professor?"

"A beautiful, but deadly Auror, who's ferocity in battle is as bold as her witty tongue." He chuckled, though stopped when he realized Minerva had froze in her place, her eyes betraying her fear and shock. Dumbledore turned around to face her, "Did I say something wrong?"

Minerva swallowed and attempted to recover a calmer composer. "That's what Màthair did after Hogwarts, didn't she, become an Auror?"

"I believe so, yes."

The witch sighed and turned away, one hand anchored to the railing balcony on the stone halls. She glanced at the moon. "I'll just have to accept that I'm half of her, I guess." She nearly shuddered at the thought, but continued their walk anyway.

"I know you don't see _eye-to-eye_ with Isobel," Minerva sniffed, "but, from what I knew of her, she was a very kind, ambitious and caring woman. I think you should be proud of that."

Minerva frowned, holding back several retorts, all she could really come up to reply was, "Very well, Professor."

They continued their walk in silence until the portrait began humming.

"Password, please," the Fat Lady chimed.

"Viribus Fortis," Minerva said softly.

"_'Strength to the brave'_, rather fitting," Dumbledore said quietly with a small smile. "Good night, Miss McGonagall."

"Good night, Professor Dumbledore, until next time."

"Until next time."

Minerva wandered down the staircase and went strait to her dormitory, walking rather quickly.

"Min!" Rolanda exclaimed. "I'm so glad you're back, we desperately need your help on that Charms worksheet! The letters aren't fitting!"

"Trust me, we've tried _everything_ he's taught us," Poppy added. "I've been looking through that text book for so long, the letters are beginning to merge."

"And it's giving me a splitting headache!" August whined, her fat black and white cat lounged in her lap without a care in the world. "I still don't understand what any of these terms mean!"

Minerva turned the crossword puzzle around so she could read it correctly and observe their problem. "Switch number five and thirty and you should be good," she gave it back to the group, with a smirk of amusement, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some of my own research to do."

"You found something on Avrenim?"

"I'm not sure, but if anything, this is the book to start with!" she pulled it out of her bag, "The entire Ross family record."

"Bloody hell, Minerva, what do you _do_ with you life?" Augusta gasped with astonishment at the size of the book.

Minerva shrugged, sat down with them, then opened the cover.

**_'Ross' Family Records_**_  
><span>Origin:<span> Scotland, predating the Order of Merlin_  
><em><span>Relative Descendants of the Following Families:<span> Ravenclaw (Status unknown), Slytherin (Possibly existent) and McGonagall (Recent, through marriage only)_

Minerva's eyes widened and thought back to when Tradisi became enraged knowing granddaughter was Sorted into Gryffindor, and slowly things started to make sense...

_Notes:__ Typically Pure-blood, no squibs known.  
>Naturally Born Talent in the Family: Astral Ability<br>_

_Astrals? What is that?_ she thought. Acting upon instinct, she turned to the glossary, found the page number for the 'Astral Ability' and flipped to it. She didn't know what she was expecting, just acting upon a hunch. What she turned to, however, exceeded all hopes;

_Astral Ability:__  
>A unique, naturally born talentability - can not be learned, extremely rare  
>Known families with the ability: Calinhad (Non-existent), Foley (existent), Karkaroff (existent, ability disabled for reasons unknown) and Ross (existent)<em>

_Description:__  
>The astral ability can not be learned, in order for one to use it, they must be born with it. Their astral is attached to the magician's soul and creates an identical entity in the mind. The entity typically manifests it's self around the age of twelve or thirteen (though can, in rare instances, be activated to save one's life earlier on). The astral is not able to 'awaken' unless the magician is asleep or unconscious. There also has to be an intense will of 'need' or 'help' near by, or, from a person the magician knows. The maximum distance astral can be away from the magician is unknown. As the magician awakes from sleep, or unconsciousness, the astral immediately forms back into it's former place hold. From here, all which the astral experienced, the magician will see and feel for a brief moment.<em>

_The astral appears as an identical copy of the magician, but will radiate a soft glow from their body. They can not perform wandless magic, nor can they speak._

_Along with being able to project their astral, the magician is able to create mental channels, bonds, with a willing mind of another magician. This magician must accept the bond in order for it to be formed. These channels allow each magician to feel and hear thoughts and feelings of the other magician. They can not be created before the initial activation of the astral._

_The magician also can glimpse into the mind of anyone (not memories, like Legilimency). Example; can be used to see anyone's current dream. The astral can not do this, however, they can allow a willing mind to see into the magician's own memories._

_Warning: If astral is killed, severe injuries may occur to the magician, including a possible moment in death. Highly advised to avoid such._

Minerva stared at the page at what seemed for hours, unable to absorb enough of it and absolutely fascinated. "Merlin's beard..." she breathed.

"What?"

"I found it. Avrenim's an astral, _my_ astral!"

Augusta looked at Minerva as if she'd spoken complete gibberish. "A _who-de-what-now?"_

* * *

><p><strong>I've been so eager to write this chapter because of the intense events involved, for about two months! Now that it's over I'm getting eager for something that I won't be writing for probably the same amount of time... Oh the woes of an Author, haha!<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed!  
>~LinK<strong>

**PS: If you've got questions, don't hesitate to send me a message! My website's uploaded an 'Insider' on the Astral Ability. [**sites. google site/darthvandolaff**] Go take a peek!**


	10. Looking Forward

_**Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way**_

_**I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day**_

_**Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret**_

_**Tell the ones, the ones I loved**_

_**I never will forget**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9 - Looking Forward<strong>

**June 15th, 1938:**

The young witch looked around her dormitory for the last time of the school year with a smile. Her green eyes flickered around, examining the area in sentiment, as she remembered the night Rolanda had saved Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup. A party rang through the Common Room, but soon after curfew Professor Dumbledore had insisted they all get some sleep, the four friends continued their celebration in their dormitory. Pomona had tutored them all with Herbology for the three just as much as Minerva had done with them all in almost every subject, and had official earned a place with them.

"You coming, Minerva?"

The witch turned her head around, her tail of hair gently whipping her face. "Oh alright, Poppy, let's go."

"Good, cause Rolanda's already bubbling with excitement, and Merlin help us all if she's like that the entire ride!"

The two laughed, making their way down to the Common Room, sure enough, their hawk-eyed sister was nearly bouncing off the walls again, giggling with an outburst of nonsense. Augusta sat on the couch with a hand on her cheek, looking rather amused. "Is she like this every time she gets excited?"

Minerva and Poppy laughed as if it was an inside joke.

"Believe me, Augusta, this is tolerable compared to what it could be."

"And besides," the dark haired witch said while digging through her handbag, she pulled out a few candied ovals, "we've come up with a few methods to keep us all sane."

The hawk-eyed girl dashed to Minerva's side so quickly, it might have been mistaken for Apparating. Her hands, wiggling to catch their prey, dove for the candies, but Minerva tightly closed her hand before she could swipe them.

"Calm yourself till we get to the train and you can have one."

Rolanda's eyes narrowed as she pursed her lips in disappointment, as if she'd just been cheated, then mumbled an agreement.

Augusta clicked her tongue. "Minerva, have I ever mentioned that you're the cleverest witch I've ever known?"

The dark haired girl shrugged with a smile. "Oh, once or twice."

"Ladies, I hate to interrupt," Poppy said with a grin, "but we promised to meet Pomona in the Great Hall and if we don't leave now, she'll start to wonder what insanity Rola drove us to."

Rolanda blew a bunch of raspberries at her for that.

**September 1st, 1938:**

Minerva spent most of her summer either reading, chasing the snitch Rolanda had given her for Christmas last year and playing with her brothers and sisters. All these activities had one thing in common, she was at _Aquae Lament_. If there was ever a moment she could be out of the Manor, or away from her mother, in-particular, she was gone.

Needless to say, when she returned to Hogwarts for her second year, Minerva was beyond prepared. Mico himself was ready to be away from Caluim, never liking the Manor in the first place. She meet up with her sisters, Augusta and Pomona at the platform and they call grabbed a compartment together, spending the entire train ride sharing stories of their summer adventures. It took her a moment to realize that they weren't going to take the boats this year, instead they were directed to the carriages while the first years went on the boats. Seeing the castle again after being cooped up all summer made her feel like she was finally coming home again after a long journey.

"There's no place like home," she heard Pomona breath quietly. Minerva couldn't agree more. No longer did the Manor welcome her like it used to, more like a prison than anything, but Hogwarts filled the gap with perfect ease and she embraced it.

Professor Merrythought briefly greeted all returning students piled into the Great Hall, then ordered them to sit down in their House table. With this, they said their goodbyes to Pomona, then headed over to the Gryffindor table, sitting near the front in order to see the Sorting Ceremony. They didn't have to wait long for the grand double doors to open. Professor Dumbledore entered, conducting his usual routine, with nearly two hundred first years trailing behind him. Instantly, several sixth and seventh years- including Algie Louise, the new Head Boy -began whispering and cooing about how adorable they were with their round faces, about them getting shorter each year. There was one boy in particular however, that caught Minerva's emerald green eyes. He was slightly taller than the rest of his year, smooth jet-black hair, pale skin, but what caught her attention what his eyes. They were dark, nearly black, and cold, as if he'd never been joyful, nor been touched with affection. He glared up at the man who lead him with a concealed hatred and raw desire- though what he desired she didn't understand, not yet anyway.

The boy had to wait nearly forty minutes before his name was called.

"Riddle, Tom."

The hat barely touched a hair on the boy's head before shouting, _"Slytherin!"_

The boy showed no emotion, no smile towards his new peers nor any appreciation towards his own House. Nothing at all, as if he was cocooned in his own mind and willed all emotions to be shut from his soul, but Minerva could see through him like a cat stalking prey at night; he held an extremely small skip in his step while walking over to take his seat and seemed to absorb the energy around him, causing his fellow Housemates to draw near, almost in instinctual awe. It was at that moment Minerva knew this Riddle boy was very strange, manipulative, but most of all, dangerous beyond her imagination.

**September 5th, 1938:**

"MINERVA!" Rolanda's holler echoed throughout the tower as she ran up the stairs for their dormitory. "MINERVA MARGARET McGONAGALL, YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS!"

The dark haired witch rolled her eyes with a smirk as she closed her book, preparing for the inevitable collision form a _very_ ecstatic, hyper sister.

"Oh no, Min, here's your chance to fly out the window and escape. I have a _dreadful_ feeling she's at level ten," Poppy said with a groan, enticing Minerva's curiosity to check their connection. Sure enough, Rolanda's thoughts were spinning a mile a minute and sounding like a humming bird.

The dark haired witch nearly broke down into laughter. "I think we need a whole new level to classify this one, Poppy!"

"Merlin help us all," the rust-colored hair girl threw a pillow on top of her head, covering her ears. "She'll burn the tower down!"

As the footsteps drew closer they also became increasingly louder before the door flew open. The intruder didn't stop her rampage, with her arms stretched out wide as she could get them, aiming directly at the target.

"MINERVA, MINERVA, MINERVA!" She nearly threw both of them off the bed as she tackled the dark haired witch.

"Rola, if you get any more excited, Professor Dumbledore's going to come in here and ask who in Merlin's name is yelling their head off like a maniac! Now, calm down and tell us what-"

"It's open! It's vacant! The Seeker position! Gryffindor needs a new Seeker, tryouts are next week, and there's no one who else in Gryffindor who could be half as good as you are! Oh, please-oh-please-oh-please, sign up! Say you will?"

"If Min says 'yes', will you calm down?" Poppy asked with a slight devilish grin.

"YES!"

"Then she'll do it, won't you, Min?" she threw her sister a death glare. _Agree to it, Minerva McGonagall, or so help me, you'll be my new test subject instead of Rola for healing spells!_

The dark haired witch simply refused to be used as magical experimentation.

**September 12th, 1938:**

The sad, but rather amusing thing was, Rolanda had been right, there really wasn't anyone near as talented like the young Minerva McGonagall. She hadn't been nervous, after all, she only accepted to tryout to avoid Poppy's wraith in her ever growing interest in healing spells.

"Er- yes, thank you, Mr. Spinnet, for that... entertaining performance," Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain, Xavier Hawke, muttered as he waved his wand to summon the Snitch into his palm. "Miss McGonagall, you're up and for your sake, I dearly hope you have some sort of potential as my patience is running thin from these wanna-be's."

"Well then, prepare to be amazed, Hawke. I told you that she's one of the best and I meant it," Rolanda spoke with a mischievous grin on her lips, her eyes sparkled with excitement. "Go on, Min, show him what you're made of!"

The witch tightened her ribbon on her hair for good measure, then hopped on her broom.

"On your mark."

Minerva lifted her feet gently off the ground, hovering ever-so-slightly.

"Get set-"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Hawke, just release it!"

"GO!" The snitch zoomed forward, and Minerva raced after it. Her eyes kept steady on the target as she climbed in altitude. The little bugger did just about everything imaginable to lose its hunter, including a nose dive that would scare off most Quidditch players, but not Minerva. The reckless stunt she pulled at _Aquae Lament_ last year had her prepared for this. Instead of out stretching her hand like most would have done, she chose to keep her broom steady, waiting for the ball to make an abrupt right turn, and when it did, she was right on it's wings, and caught it. Rolanda was the only one cheering, the rest were just as breathless as the young witch as she made her way back towards the Captain with triumphant glee.

"That enough for you, or do you need another go?" she asked with a grin as she tossed the deactivate snitch to him.

Hawke looked like he'd just been handed a pot of gold. "Welcome to the team, McGonagall. Practice starts tomorrow after fourth period. We'll get you equipped and measured so you'll have everything for the first match then the real work will begin."

Rolanda nearly took Minerva off her broom as she jumped up and hugged her tightly, "I told you, Min! I told you you'd make the team!"

As the two began walking back to the Castle, she couldn't help but overhear a last bit of conversation from Xavier as he put the Snitch away.

"If I do say so myself, Mr. Hawke, I think you've found a very fine Seeker."

"I think so too, Professor Dumbledore. Her performance was absolutely astounding. Between you and I, sir, with Hooch saving every ball thrown at her and if McGonagall performs like she did today, I have no doubts we'll be winning that Cup for sure!"

**October 31st, 1938:**

Defence Against the Dark Arts was beginning to prove ever more boring for for Minerva. She knew had to conduct everything like it was second nature to her, like in transfiguration, except there was no challenge in completing as she could easily do everything with a wave of her hand. Unlike most students who occasionally found themselves under her situation, she didn't slack off on the homework and assignments, but never-the-less, she found the temptation of falling asleep creep attach to her, especially when all they did was write three parchments about the defending the mind. The young witch finished it with half of class left, even adding two extra pages to boot.

"Miss McGonagall, you can not possibly be done?"

"I am, Professor, the concept is quite simple." Minerva handed her assignment to her professor. The elder witch looked at her student with small frown of annoyance, then quickly scanned the pages for unacceptable work. Minerva cringed inside, _Merlin, I need to stop acting like everything isn't hard enough! One of these days it'll get me into trouble, I swear..._

"May I read it?"

The young witch was rather surprised at Professor Merrythought's reply being more curious than expected. She nodded then waited patiently as the elder witch's eyes read the essay as if she couldn't believe a second year had written one so beautifully correct. When she finished, her professor simply placed the document on one side of her desk.

"This is an excellent paper, Miss McGonagall. I would like to see you after class, if you are not busy." Her voice was stern as ever, and facial features gave nothing away as to her true feelings, but her eyes were warm with a certain kind of love that she wasn't used to, a constant reminder of what Isobel continued to deprive her of.

"Of course, Ma'am." The young witch hardly paid attention to the gaping mouths and envious eyes of the other students as she sat down and began reading a fascinating Transfiguration research book Professor Dumbledore gave her.

_How did you finish so quickly?_ Rolanda asked, thankfully looking at her with less amazement than everyone else, _I still have a page to go, and you did two extra!_

Minerva shrugged, turning a page. _The key to a defensive mind is to empty your mind and clear all thoughts._

_But the book said to never be surprised and keep thoughts from drifting! _Poppy said with a bit of frustration.

_You're right, but that's only the basis of defence and Occlumency which is to protect the mind from the Imperius Curse._

With that, both of them just continued with their assignment, leaving Minerva to muse over every little detail about the beginnings of Transfiguration, how it started and who invented it. She found several things were still left unsolved, and it annoyed her to no end. In fact, the more she pondered it, she realized that Transfiguration was the only core subject that didn't include the history of discovery.

The bell rang soon after. Minerva informed her sisters to go without her, then walked up to Professor Merrythought's desk. The elder witch motioned her to follow into her office, and she obeyed.

"Have a seat, McGonagall, you are not in detention."

"What _am_ I here for, Professor?" she asked with calm curiosity.

"To discuss your apparent boredom in my class. I know you are a bright young witch and Professor Dumbledore speaks very highly of you- which, mind you, is very rare from him to be impressed, if you must know -so, you can see why I am puzzled to begin with."

"Forgive me, Professor, it is because I do not feel challenged in this class. I can do everything with a wave of my hand."

Merrythought's eyes raised in a mocking disbelief. "My dear, I can not tell you how many times I have had students tell me that, and never be able to perform such in front of me, especially at your age."

"May I show you then, Professor?"

Her eyes narrowed in irritation now as she sighed in annoyance. "Be my guest, Miss McGonagall."

Instantly, the young witch waved her hand. _"Expelliarmus!"_

The professor's wand flew out from its hook in her sleeve and soared into Minerva open palm. It was enough to convince Merrythought- clearly the woman had seen too many frauds.

"H-how..." the elder witch had to placed a hand on her chest to steady herself as she stared at Minerva, "Professor Dumbledore was not exaggerating then..." Merrythought said quietly, before nodding. "Very well then, I understand your predicament, Miss McGonagall, and thus I am willing to adjust your academic learning. I have only known this to be done with one other student and he thrived under it, so I do not see why you should not be any different. I will give you extra assignments at the start of the week, they will be a level ahead from where you are, but I fully expect you to do the assignments in this class without question. Would you like that?"

Minerva smiled as she gave the wand back. "Yes, Professor Merrythought, I'd like that very much."

"Well then, it is settled. I will send you an owl with a list at the start of every week, so there is no suspicion from your classmates. It might be best that this be kept secret between those close to you. Now, off you get."

"Professor?"

"Yes, McGonagall?"

"The student you were talking about, was he Professor Dumbledore?"

"Why yes, yes he was. Why do you ask, my dear?"

"No reason, Professor, just curious."

That was far beyond the truth, and both witches knew it. Minerva had an aura around her, that not even Merrythought could deny now. She made a mental note to ask the rest of the staff to conduct the same method of learning for the young McGonagall girl she would be conducting; and also to keep an eye on her for whatever hell might reign.

**November 12th, 1938:**

Minerva had done extremely well on their first match against Slytherin. Professor Dumbledore came up to congratulate her on her record of the fastest Snitch catching in nearly fifty years. It was true, as soon as the whistle had blown to start the game, Minerva dove for the golden devil like a magnet. At first, half the stadium had thought she'd lost control of her broom, especially when she'd recklessly drove under the stadium's seats. She had to dodge every wooden plank in her way, but she made it out, alive and victorious with that devil of a ball in her palm, just in time for Rolanda to save a ball.

On her way to Dumbledore's lesson that night, she began to overhear an argument between two students that was rather concerning to her.

"Hey, you, Mudblood! Yes, _you,_ come here. I hear you got a detention, what, you can't run to you filthy Muggle mum and cry? Oh, wait, she's not here is she? I heard she died in a car accident, how unfortunate."

She turned the corner, facing the rudely out spoken boy from behind. He wasn't alone, he had the gang Minerva so dearly despised on his side, including Malfoy. To her surprise, it _wasn't_ the platinum blond boy who was sneering, it was the first year boy, Tom Riddle. She had to do something, she'd feel horrible if she didn't, but at the same time, the young witch knew she'd get in trouble..

_Ah, but what would a nice hiccuping hex be doing wrong?_ the thought echoed into her mind. She almost giggled as she waved her wand, using her mind to expand the hex to hit each member. Quickly and quietly, she turned the corner and walked towards Dumbledore's classroom, though, not without hearing the series of giggles and laughter coming from the poor Muggle-born as a the Slytherins began the hiccups that Minerva ensured would not stop for two days.

The young witch must have still held a small grin on her face when she entered the Transfiguration department, as Professor Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in question.

"You've had an exciting day, haven't you, Miss McGonagall?"

Minerva shrugged, still wearing her smile. "What am I learning this time, Professor?"

"You'll be training your mind to keep your awareness skill that we learned last year awake at all times."

The young witch's brows furrowed. "Forgive me, sir, but wouldn't that mentally and physically drain me? To keep a magical awareness open constantly would take an immense amount of fortitude and magical prowess that-"

"Someone like you has," the professor smirked. "I think it is you who are doubting yourself now, Miss McGonagall. It is true, that if you were to attempt this right here and now, you'd exhaust yourself to a grave extent, however, if you take it one step at a time, eventually your mind will develop pathways to make things easier. Like flying a broom, for example."

Minerva nodded slowly. "Alright, how will we conduct this?"

"Same as usual, you'll keep your eyes closed by a blindfold and I'll ask you to find an object that you'll have to find relatively quick. When you find the items, hover them for a moment, then repeat. We'll go with this for nearly two hours, to get a sense of where you stand today. So, prepare yourself for surprises anyway possible." He winked at her.

The young witch wasn't exactly sure what he meant, but was positive that it would be an amusing challenge nonetheless. She sat down, composing herself in her chair and covered her eyes with a ribbon she grabbed from his desk.

"Very well, Professor," she spoke, her voice still amused a bit, "let's get started."

"Find a water goblet then the jar of Rungweed," he instructed softly.

She knew where these were fairly easily already and had no trouble lifting one as instructed. But as time pressed on, and objects were piling on the list, she began to feel her magic straining to cooperate. Still, she forced it to do her bidding. It was at the last object, however, when things got out of hand.

"Good, now find my quill."

The young witch hesitated. "It's not in your pocket, is it, sir?"

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. "Not this time, Miss McGonagall."

Searching for it wasn't the problem, but levitating it was where she found difficulty, as if a wire had been chewed or a line on it's last string. Whatever it was, she simply could not make it lift like the others. Minerva took a deep breath, and tried again. The quill levitated off the desk, then suddenly burst into hundreds of feathers, she knew immediately something went wrong, and took off the ribbon. The sudden movement of her hands triggered each individual feather to erupt, setting off explosions like a rigged bomb. She was lucky Professor Dumbledore had his wand ready, or several feathers would have taken her out. He acted with a ferocity and determination she hadn't seen before; he grabbed her, pulling her near him protectively, then quickly encased their fiery feathers until all had safely exploded.

The young witch just stood there, encased in Dumbledore's arms, completely dumbfounded while looking at the mess she created her professor had sacrificed several feathers in order to keep her safe.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, still holding her in his arms. She couldn't find herself to speak, to shocked at what she'd done, so she merely nodded softly. Nothing had gone as planned, but with a wave of his hand, everything returned the way it was. Not a simple thing out of order, nor destroyed. It always seemed that way when she was around him, that everything could be fixed with a wave of his hand. She felt safe with him, though she knew she shouldn't. He had something hidden and that conversation she overheard last year hadn't been forgotten. Minerva still didn't know who Grindelwald was, but she had a feeling he wasn't a man she'd like to meet. It should keep her wary of her professor, but she couldn't bring herself to it.

"Come, let's go to my office, I think you'll need some tea to calm your nerves."

He let go, softly leading her to his office. The young witch sat down quietly, looking at her hands in confusion and anger.

"I had a feeling that would happen, you know," Professor Dumbledore spoke quietly after he'd summoned an elf for tea."You've amazed me beyond my wildest imaginings since we first met that I truly have no way of gauging of how your magic will react."

The house else returned, and Dumbledore retrieved the tray of steaming mugs. "Thank you, Mozart, that'll be all for now." The elf nodded then left again as the professor walked over towards the young witch. "Here, I think you'll find this quite to your liking."

She accepted the mug with a raised brow, then cautiously sipped the hot liquid. The young witch smiled as the taste lingered on her lips.

"Highland heather," she said simply, looking at her professor who finally sat down in the couch across from her, "How did you know?"

Dumbledore shrugged with a smile as he too took a sip. "Lucky guess."

She waited for the tea to take effect, taking slow, deep breaths, before she began to talk again, "I don't understand what went wrong, sir, I couldn't lift the feather. It felt like a link had been worn down from overuse, but I continued anyway, wanting to finish the task..."

"Ah, and that's problem, Miss McGonagall, you overworked yourself."

Minerva frowned, she never thought her magic could have limits. "Even so, why did everything act so violently and completely uncontrolled?"

Professor Dumbledore's twinkling eyes gazed into hers. "What do you think?"

He was challenging her to think about the situation, to reflect and come to a conclusion and if there was one thing Minerva McGonagall was known for, it was never backing out of a challenge to knowledge. She drew silent for while reliving it for a moment, seeing every action as it happened.

"I acted with panic. Thus, upon being overworked like never before, my magic took that slight moment of emotion and turned it into a... defence mechanism?" That didn't sound right to her and she she looked up at him for correction, but he nodded.

"Although you could have easily been killed by that little mechanism, your reasoning is correct. I must strongly caution you to never try that again unless being supervised by myself, Professor Merrythought, or under _'desperate measures'_, and I emphasis desperate, Miss McGonagall."

Minerva nodded her head. "I understand sir."

"Good. Now, let's get you back to your dormitory, I'm sure your sisters are worried about you." Minerva almost used her mental connection to check when Dumbledore interrupted her thoughts, "No, I don't know what exactly what it is that you do, but I know you use some-sort of magic that's connected the minds of your sisters- nor do I know _how_ you've done such -but I'm giving you orders as the Deputy not use any sort of magic for the next twenty-four hours. It's essential that you rest. That connection you wore out to the point of cracking needs to mend, especially if you don't want such mechanisms happening again."

Minerva smiled softly. "Agreed. No magic for a day..." her smile turned into a smirk. "Although, if I go insane, do I have permission to blame you, sir?"

Dumbledore laughed.

**May 26th, 1939:**

Before Minerva knew it, the school year had gone by so quickly, she hardly knew what hit her until she was on the Quidditch pitch, when the thunderous roar of the crowd echoed in her ears as she and the rest of the team flew onto the pitch. This match was all that stood between Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and the House Cup. According to Xavier, Hufflepuff hadn't a team so good in years, but neither has Gryffindor seen the likes of a team so naturally talented. Pomona had given them her best wishes, which Rolanda was rather surprised about, though stated that she would undoubtedly be cheering for Hufflepuff with a wink.

Minerva looked her her left, and smiled at her eager hawk-eyed sister. "Good luck!"

Rolanda squeezed her shoulder. "You too, find that Snitch as quick as you can. I gave Hawke and Cord a few extra tips on your methods and strategies to help protect you better from those Bludgers, but I doubt you'll have much trouble."

"Hawke didn't take offense?"

Rolanda rolled her eyes with a smile. "He asked me for advice, it's not like I was being-"

The whistle blew for them to get into positions. they wished each other good luck again, before setting off. Minerva caught a glance at Poppy, who proudly waved the Gryffindor banner with pride, and saw Professor Dumbledore give her a smile.

The crowd grew silent as the commentator listed the names of players, while their flying instructor opened the crate. The young witch hovered a few feet above everyone else, keeping her eyes on the golden devil. When the whistle blew, everything flew into chaos. All six chasers dived for the Quaffle, the Buldgers were released, flying around hectically, but the snitch... where was the snitch? It had gone, completely out of sight.. Minerva cursed, then jerked her broom to the left to avoid an oncoming Bludger.

"Get a move on, McGonagall!" Xavier hollered as he batted the ball away, "It's not safe here!"

She did as instructed, moving towards the commentator area, then turned around, keeping her eye out for that Snitch. Unfortunately, it seemed to have vanished completely. Two long and boring hours passed and neither Seeker had bolted into a daring charge for the bugger. Xavier was constantly near her, keeping the Bludgers away, and even he was beginning to feel the effects of the game.

"Should I call a Timeout? We all could use a rest."

"We only get one of those, Hawke, and I have a bad feeling we'll need it later."

"If you say so..."

Unfortunately, Minerva was right. Another two hours passed, the abominable snitch was still nowhere to be seen, and several players were close to swaying off their broom from dizziness. At this point, nobody was really trying to get a goal in, with the score being tied and they decided on saving their strength. The Hufflepuff Seeker, Roger Tipp, headed near her, his eyes still on the lookout, but never the less, he was also bored of hovering and dodging.

"Have you seen it?" he asked her in genuine conversation.

Minerva shook her head. "No, I haven't. It's like the devil disappeared after the whistle!"

"It's not like a Snitch to never show its face for this long, usually it appears for a second, there's a bit of a chase but then it goes poof, but not like-"

"Look out!" Minerva yelled as she rammed her broom to the side, dragging Tipp's broom with her, as both Bludgers with deadly accuracy aimed to take them both out. They barely managed to escape them.

"Bloody hell, thanks, McGonagall! That would have been at least a week in the Hospital wing, I owe you one."

Minerva shrugged. "Hey, Hawke, wake up over there! I just about got my self-"

There was a flicker of light, and she was gone, zooming into the sky. She could hear the commentator's voice rising with excitement, partially cheering Minerva to get the snitch so that the game would end. She fought hard to keep her broom steady, as she spiraled around players. She followed it down near the grass, her turf, and she knew she had it before it touched her fingers. The crowd, even a few Hufflepuffs who were just ready for the game to be over, erupted in a thunderous cheer. Gryffindor won, and Minerva had never been more happier for a game of Quidditch to be over, especially with the Cup in her hands.

**May 27th, 1939:**

Although she was tired from the endless excitement last night, she didn't show it the next day. Between Augusta, Rolanda and Poppy, there was enough excitement to go around the world five times over. Today's classes were meant to be used to study and practice for their final exams, even if there had been a House Cup awarded last night, and Professor Dumbledore was eager to keep it so.

"Alright everyone, I've very glad to see you're still enthusiastic about last night's game, however, if you do not get to work, I'll be assigning detentions."

Minerva partnered up with Pomona to help her with changing the mouse into a pincushion, and, if needed, clear the air.

"Relax, Mona, there's nothing to be tense about, the game is over, after all."

Thankfully, Pomona didn't take it offensively, and it was something that Minerva admired about the witch, her way of knowing exactly what context a conversation was meant.

The pudgy girl smiled. "You have a point. Congratulations on finding that golden bugger, by the way. I didn't get a chance to tell you that with all the celebration."

Poppy was, as usual, showing promise in the subject. She'd conducted everything just one wand wave behind Minerva, though every now and then the dark haired witch would pretend she couldn't get it right to keep her friend's hopes high. She really did have a good mind for the subject, and Minerva didn't want her to feel overshadowed. Poor Rolanda tended to get frustrated with the Transfiguration, unlike Defensive Arts, and was able to do everything, though it took her more time and practice than her sisters. She tended to vent her frustration with Augusta, who always had a laugh. Between the five of them, they all seemed to compliment each other with their studies- well, except Augusta with Charms, she really couldn't get her mind wrapped around the subject.

The period ended, and as everyone gathered their books, Professor Dumbledore spoke up, "Miss McGonagall, Miss Pomfrey, I'd like a word with you before you leave, please."

The two glanced at each other for a moment.

_Do you know what that' about?_ Poppy asked with a bit of nerves.

Minerva threw a teasing glare at her, _You think I know what goes on in that brilliant lemony mind of his?_

_Well, you do spend a few extra hours with him more than anyone else!_

The two glanced at the rest of the group in unison.

"Go on, we'll catch up later," Poppy suggested, then walked up to Dumbledore's desk with Minerva.

"First off, I'd like to say that I'm _very_ impressed with your progress and ability. It's not often that Transfiguration has two students as young as you are, excel at the subject with ease and grace as you two do, yes Miss Pomfrey, even you," Poppy blushed lightly, "In light of this, I'd like to extend the offer of you two joining the Animagus study for next year after lessons."

The two sisters looked into each other's eyes with wide excitement.

"Becoming an Animagus is _very_ difficult and usually takes several years of study before even attempting to transform, but, it is an offer that I'd like you two to consider. I normally give this advice to third years, but seeing as you two are so naturally gifted, I feel obligated to informing you know so you have time to think it over the summer."

Minerva could feel her heart pounding in her chest. It's what she always wanted since she first got her acceptance letter. She squeezed Poppy's hand in excitement.

"That you, sir, thank you so much!" they both said in unison, as the dashed towards the Great Hall for lunch. Minerva was nearly skipping down the halls. The young witch wasn't worried about the summer anymore, she had something to look forward to now.

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><p><strong>A whole year in a chapter, and the next chapter will do the same! Do be kind to Em, she put up with about three of my updates during the holidays! You're a gem, dear, really, and I can't thank you enough!<strong>

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter and your Holidays.**

**~LinK**


	11. Adjustments

_**Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way**_

_**I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day**_

_**Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret**_

_**Tell the ones, the ones I loved**_

_**I never will forget**_

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><p><strong>AN:**

~For the sake of my sanity, the Soviets invaded Poland the same day as Nazi Germany did. I try to keep the 'Muggle' history strait, as I do allot of research into it, but this was one exception.

~PoaG has officially reached Chapter 10! I'm so excited that readers are accepting this so wonderful! Also, Em, I know I say this alot, but I truly mean it; thank you so much! I know this is a monster, but you've been so great working with me on tackling it! Nut-meg, your awesome and you know it sis! Anyways, onward!

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><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's**_

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><p><strong>Chapter 10 - Adjustments<strong>

**September 1st , 1939:**

Something was wrong, and despite Minerva's growing aptitude in magic, she couldn't figure out what. Her father had been a nervous wreck all week and both parents refused to tell the children whatever the matter was. It was on the train that she finally pieced it all together upon snatching Augusta's copy of _The Daily Prophet_ she didn't usually read.

_**Germany and Soviet Union Invaded Poland: The Anhänger Surrounds Poland With Anti-Dissapparition Wards**_

_Thousands are expected to be dead by the end of the day, and near a 50,000 by the end of next week. It is expected that the United Kingdom and France will declare war on Germany soon in order to prevent such needless slaughter and stop the madness currently sweeping Europe, though it doesn't look that any action the Muggles could produce will prevent this onslaught of unprovoked war. It is suspected that Hitler is being aided by the Dark Wizard, Gellert Grindelwald, and his supporters; the Anhänger and Untergang. There is no doubt that- if this is true- Grindelwald will cause the current reign of terror to become absolute with this alliance, for he will be able to invade the Polish Institute of Magic, well known for taking in young Muggle-born witches and wizards, without much resistance._

_We already know his motives; to overthrow the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy and to force Muggles into subservience. It's not hard to suspect that, if he gets the chance, Grindelwald's forces; the Anhänger and Untergang, will murder the Muggle-borns simply to make a statement._

Minerva let the paper slide from her fingers and onto the floor, not bothering to pick it up and finish the article. All she could think about was Professor Dumbledore's conversation with the, now infamous, Gellert Grindelwald, which she had the unfortunate pleasure of overhearing. She forgot all about her plans to inform Dumbledore that she and Poppy were going to accept his offer of the Animagus class, all until she'd sat at the Great Hall once again, and realized he hadn't made an appearance that night.

"I can't believe the Ministry isn't doing anything to stop Grindelwald!" Rolanda slammed her fist to the table while everyone was enjoying the feast and reminiscing about the latest gossip.

Xavier Hawke, who proudly wore a Prefect badge, was sitting next to her and had been listening to her rant for the past few minuets intently while he ate. Until now, he hadn't spoken a word. "It's because of a treaty, Rolanda-"

"Damn that treaty!" She turned to face him. "Especially when it's already being violated! We should just charge in, stop _him_ and his elite shadowy group, the Untergang!"

"_Charge in?_ Rolanda, you know that wouldn't be very effective, yes?"

"Oh, shut up Xavier!" she bit back harshly, her hand was twitching to slap him.

"Hey, I'm just as worried as you are! I've got family in Poland, and I hear Disapparating over wards isn't good for the body."

Rolanda's featured softened instantly with regret and sorrow. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"I know," he put his hand over hers and smiled softly.

Minerva smirked, having watched the whole scene, then turned to Poppy- who was currently being pestered by Augusta's ravings about Algie's latest promotion in the Ministry- and leaned into her ear to whisper, "Give it a year or two, and our dear sister will be falling head-over-heals for Mr Hawke!"

They giggled, then nearly burst into uncontrollable laughter as Rolanda glared at them. It was good to laugh every now and then, especially with all the grim news floating around. Before they left for the Tower that night, Minerva looked at the staff table once more, only to be disappointed again.

**September 2nd, 1939:**

It was on her way to breakfast that morning when she finally saw him. He looked exhausted, worried, and it was obvious that- wherever he'd been yesterday - he hadn't been successful.

"Miss McGonagall," he spoke with a sternly calm voice to catch her attention, "I'd like a word with you, if I may."

"Of course, Professor. Actually, I've been meaning to talk with you myself."

"Oh really?" he looked at Poppy and smiled with small delight. "I take it you've both considered my offer?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore, Minerva and I both would love to attend."

The usual twinkle in his deep sapphire eyes ignited again.

"That's wonderful news indeed, and I look forward to seeing you both in my class." He directed his voice towards the rest of the group. "Why don't you all run along while I talk to Miss McGonagall for a moment."

They nodded in obedience, said their farewell for now, and left for the Great Hall. Professor Dumbledore motioned for the young witch to follow him into his office

"I feel I should apologize if I caused you concern, my dear," he spoke quietly as he closed the door behind them then cast a silencing charm in the room, "But recent events are as such most important for me to attend."

"Did it have anything to do with the invasion in Poland, Sir?"

The professor nodded slowly. "I presume you haven't forgotten then?"

She knew what he was talking about, the conversation she overheard in her first year. The witch spoke softly, "No, I haven't."

"I didn't think so." He sighed, then shook his head. "Enough talk about the war, I didn't ask you to come here just so we can talk about unfortunate events. Had I been here yesterday, I would have pulled you aside to talk about your schedule this year. There are conflicts with your multiple subjects, as you're taking eleven. Along with the usual seven core classes, you signed up for four electives: Magical Creatures, Arithmacy, Study of Ancient Runes and Ancient Studies."

Minerva frowned, she hadn't thought about the timetable being an issue.

"But don't fear, we typically have a one or two students each year who feel compelled to take more classes than advised, and there is a solution, however, it is immensely difficult and dangerous." Professor Dumbledore opened a small chest on his desk and removed the object within. It was a Time Manipulation Device. Her breath hitched in amazement. She'd read about them from the Manor's library, but she never dreamed she'd be allowed to use one!

Dumbledore smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Judging by your reaction, I assume you know what this is?"

The young witch nodded. "Yes, Sir, it's a Time-Turner. It allows someone to be in two places at once."

"Indeed. A powerful, but potentially disastrous tool, if not used for the proper reasons." He narrowed his eyes with seriousness. "I know you, Miss McGonagall, and you aren't the sort to use such a thing lightly, nevertheless, I also know how the mind can be when something terrible occurs. I must ask you to never use this under such times, even when it's tempting. You are to only use it for academic reasons, is that clear?"

"I understand, Professor."

"Good," his features softened as he walked closer to her, "then I trust you won't have any problems, also, it's imperative that you don't allow yourself to be seen in the same area as your future or past self, by someone else. It's not exactly public knowledge that Hogwarts owns a few Time-Turners."

She got the message; Professor Dumbledore had gone through great lengths to acquire her this device, and she had no intention of letting him down. Professor Dumbledore lowered the chain, letting the connected round object fall into her hand. She gazed upon it in amazing but dared not to turn it yet. There would be time to get used to the tool later. Minerva's thoughts raced through possibilities, tactics which she'd need, and found a question brewing in her mind.

"Sir, would the Room of Requirement work between time travel?"

Dumbledore smiled. "If it worked for me in my time, Miss McGonagall, I'm sure it will work for you."

The young witch smiled in amusement as she connected the clasps around her neck, then slid the device under her collar. "Was there anything else Professor?"

"Ah, yes, in fact there was. It's the matter of our weekly lessons. I'm afraid I won't be able to continue them this year, and I suspect it'll be the same next year."

Minerva's brow furrowed with disappointment, she'd been looking forward to learning more about wandless abilities or working on her Animagus training.

Seeing her reaction, Professor Dumbledore lifted her chin softly with his hand, "Had there not been a war, I'd love to continue them. However, I have a feeling you'll have your hands full this year with the extra classes you're taking."

The young witch shrugged. "The only one I think will be challenging enough is Animagus Studies, Sir."

He chuckled. "Indeed. Well, Miss McGonagall, you best be on your way, I wouldn't wish to keep you from the most important meal of the day."

As Minerva left, she felt as if she'd lost something, but couldn't think of it. She had everything she came with, and one item more so, but still, the feeling lingered and part of her dared not figure out what it meant.

**September 18th, 1939:**

The latest news out of Poland was horrifying. As expected, it had fallen, but because of the swiftness of the defeat and the amount of casualties was staggering for the Muggle world. Nearly 50,000 polish soldiers were killed, and between the Soviets and Hitler's regimen, they'd also conducted a mass murder of over a thousand captured prisoners of war. They've completely ravaged the country by war. Although Britain and France had declared war, the enemy had conducted their operation with very little opposition.

Though the terrible figures of death and destruction were more than enough, what was truly horrifying was that the self announced Dark Lord, Grindelwald, had been successful. Almost thirty Polish Muggle-born students had been murdered by him and his followers. It was at this point that the Headmaster had to make an announcement in order to calm the students and reassure them that along as the Dark Lord and his forces remained in the Continent, there was nothing he could do to reach the students. Nevertheless, Prefect's night patrols were arranged an hour later to keep a sense of security. Xavier had been summoned to the Headmaster's office this morning to receive the unfortunate news that his uncle and aunt had been killed. He'd been sent home for the rest of the week to mourn, along with a few other students whose relatives lost their lives.

By this time, Minerva was slowly but surely becoming used to the Time-Turner, and although her friends were suspicious at first, they always adjusted to her behaving strangely these days, especially after meeting and learning about Avrenim, who'd yet to show herself again. As promised, the Animagus class started that afternoon, were a delight. The group meet on Mondays and Thursdays for a few hours, perfect for working between Quidditch practice, and it was a very small group. There were two levels assigned; Advanced, for those who had successfully completed their transformation, and Apprentice, for those learning. There were a total of ten students, two Advanced, and eight Apprentices, with Minerva and Poppy the only third years.

"Good afternoon, everyone."

"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore."

"Yes, yes, welcome to Animagus Studies. If haven't already noticed, we have two new students, Miss McGonagall and Miss Pomfrey joining us this year, I expect you all to help them as you have been helped in the past. Now, let's get started shall we?"

His eyes gleamed as he flashed a glance to Minerva, before his body instantly began to shrink and become covered with fiery feathers. In a blink of an eye, the man who had once been Professor Dumbledore, had been replaced by a beautiful phoenix. It let out a pleasing cry, then flew around the room, continuing to amaze every student, before turning around and transforming back.

Minerva's heart was thumping so loudly in excitement she was afraid Poppy could hear it. This is what she wanted more than anything in the world, to become an Animagus. It'd allow her to flee from her parents and get into _Aquae Lament_ without being spotted. It was perfect, but most of all, it was one of the most advanced, and dangerous forms of Transfiguration, and hence, a challenge.

If she could pass this, she could do anything.

**November 14th, 1939:**

Minerva thought the Room of Requirement for privacy and secrecy, and it gave it to her. She removed the device from her uniform and wound it twice, before she suddenly saw someone appear in front of her. It was her self.

"_Merlin's pants!"_ they both screamed in unison. _"What are you doing here?"_

They put their hands on their hips. _"Me? What about you?"_ It was like looking into a mirror, and hearing exactly what you said repeated- it was ever so frustrating.

"_Don't you have somewhere to be?"_ Finally, they stopped reacting the same, though their responses were on the same frequency.

"Why yes, it's Thursday, I'm off to Dumbledore's Animagus class, you?"

"Charms, and I'm still praying that no one will miss me! This entire thing is so-"

"_-weird!... Stop that. No, you stop!"_ They threw their hands up in unison.

"Wait, did you say Animagus class? You're two turns forward..."

"Oh, lovely, thanks. Now get a move on, I have time to waste, but you don't. Go, or you'll be late!" her future self said, taping the activation wheel and forcing the present Minerva back into the past.

Minerva had a hard time concentration in Charms class that hour, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she had seen herself and had not displayed the typical reaction that most did- death by their own hands. She decided it would be best to start keeping a journal of when she used the Time-Turner in order to prevent such accidents in the future.

In addition to her Charms class, Minerva had a lesson in Magical Theory she promised to mentor for that afternoon, and by the time she finally got to the Gryffindor Tower, she had completely forgotten about her Animagus class. With a groan, she headed off into the Room of Requirement, filling her mind with thoughts of need and help while fiddling to get the Time-Turner out and accidentally turned it five times. She rushed into the hidden room and activated the device with a deep breath. It was only when opened her eyes that she realized that she was reliving what her past self did several hours ago...

She didn't have to act anything out, it was all natural for her, not a thought went into her actions. It was odd to see her self again, and that same fear crept through her mind again. After activating her past self's time device, she cursed.

_Two turns early? _she sighed, then started to laugh. _I should have paid attention to the past encounter!_

Quickly, she made her way to Professor Dumbledore's classroom, knowing he had a free period, hoping he'd let her stay for the few hours she had to spare. As she got closer, she began to overhear a conversation between Professor Dumbledore and Headmaster Dippet, one she slightly wished she hadn't heard. Dippet's voice was low, she had to strain to hear much, and even then she could only make out a few words in the beginning.

"-war's is getting closer, Albus... Hogwarts isn't prepared-"

Dumbledore's voice wasn't as calm, however. He's voice clearly displayed that he was rather frustrated and angry. "I know, Armando, I know, but there's nothing I can do about it! Please just let the matter be, I may have known Grindelwald once, but that doesn't mean anything to him anymore."

"Alright, old friend."

There were more whispers, but they were too quiet for her ears to hear, followed by the sound of a door opening and footsteps. The young witch waited several minutes, not wanting Professor Dumbledore to know that she had, again, eavesdropped on a conversation she probably shouldn't have heard. She already knew Dumbledore had known Grindelwald once, but why he was being asked to solve things relating to the man was beyond her, especially considering he was needed at Hogwarts to teach, not on front line negotiations!

"Professor?"

Dumbledore turned around. His eyes gave way of his emotional and physical state; he was exhausted. "Ah, Miss McGonagall, what brings you here so early?"

"I accidentally made two extra turns, which is just an addition to all the other chaos. Today seems to never end."

"You and me both, it seems." The professor sighed as he sat in his chair. Minerva sat on a table, facing him with curiosity and trying not to look too suspicious, but like a cat, it could not be hidden. Dumbledore smirked at the girl's actions, quickly deciding to change subjects. "We haven't gotten the chance to chat very much this year, how are you coping with the Time-Turner?"

"Aside from today, I've gotten a handle of it and I'm keeping up with my classes, even with the extra work."

"That's good to hear, and what of the Animagus class? I've seen you helping Miss Pomfrey from time-to-time and you seem to be enjoying yourself. Is the work challenging enough?" he winked at her.

"I adore the class, Sir, and it is challenging enough..." Minerva smiled, "for now."

"_For now?"_ Dumbledore chuckled. "You are becoming too smart for your own good, you know, Miss McGonagall. How are you satisfying your curiosity?"

Minerva shrugged. "I've borrowed the second and third books from the library to keep myself occupied."

The professor shook his head in partial amusement. "Just be careful, my dear. Experimenting with the Animagus process can be extremely dangerous."

"I know, Sir, but I can't help it. I feel connected to the magic involved and it's fascinating!" Her excitement shined through her exhausted form, causing a few twinkles in Dumbledore's eyes to appear. "If you don't mind, Sir, I'd really like to ask a few questions."

_"You_ have questions?" he smirked. "Very well, ask away."

"I've noticed that Transfiguration is the only one without the Ancient History of its founding, why is that?"

Dumbledore grinned. "I've wondered that myself, Miss McGonagall."

"So it's true then, not much is known?"

"Not enough to be in the books. It's very vague, not even I've been able to figure it out."

"But you have idea's?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "I have a theory that Transfiguration might have been learned by a different species then then eventually evolved into our own methods. There are some species whose magic evolves and I've seen evidence that suggests Transfiguration is a method of such incorporation."

"Magical evolution? Professor, that's an incredibly bold and hard to fathom hypothesis," she smirked, with a gleam of humor her eyes "However, it's not too far fetched enough for me to dispense."

Dumbledore grinned. "You know, if I were talking to anyone else,someone would think me crazy."

"I could never think you delusional, Professor, I respect you too much."

"I means a great deal for me to hear you say that, my dear."

Minerva smiled softly. "I know, Sir, and if there's anything I can do to help, let me know. After all, I've got _time_ on my side."

He nodded in agreement, appreciating her compassion for his well being, especially during these grim times.

**May 11th, 1940:**

The news about Nazi Germany invading France last night broke out like wild fire. A month ago, Denmark had surrendered, mostly due to Untergang's involvement, and Norway was invaded soon after. Because of this, the fear of France falling into enemy hands was being taken very seriously. The Beauxbatons Academy of Magic had officially declared that all students were to stay at the castle over the summer for their protection, and word came that most parents agreed to it. The fighting, in both Muggle and Wizard worlds alike was vicious and devastating, there had never been a war quite like this in either history. The casualties were mounting, and according the Headmaster Dippet, it was only just beginning. He also stated that the Governors were working on a plan to keep the students who needed to stay over the summer for their protection, with their parents permission.

The stress of the war was evident on the teachers, especially Professor Dumbledore who gradually seemed to be more absent than anyone would suspect as normal, but all his substitutes, especially Professor Merrythought, assured everyone that it was nothing to worry about. Minerva knew better than to believe what they said, however, she didn't wish to bother Dumbledore anymore than what she needed to. He was a very busy man these days.

As a means of forgetting about the war, there were many students- especially Minerva and Poppy -who used their studies, homework and research to cope and the Animagus class proved evermore perfect for that reason alone. Both witches were scouring the books and training like hungry lions. Although both witches were on the same reading and comprehension of the spells, the dark haired witch was the one excelling beyond what most could do in three years, even with Professor Dumbledore gone half the time.

For Rolanda and Xavier, Quidditch became a way of relieving stress for every member of the team, Minerva frequently caught them talking before and after practices or accidental staring at eachother, lost in thought. Every now and then she'd catch them in a row, but it never lasted long, to the team's relief. They were close to the House Cup and no one wanted to lose because of uncooperative teammates.

**May 25th, 1940:**

_Today's the day!_ the dark haired with thought with a bit of excitement and nerves. _As long as Dumbledore is here for class, that is..._

Poppy hooked arms with her sisters as they walked down the hall towards the Transfiguration Department. _Hawke said that he saw him today, so you needn't worry about that!_

Minerva could feel her heartbeat slowly picking up speed as they sat in their seats. Their professor entered the room a few minuets later, to her immense relief and she waited for class to officially start, before raising her hand.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, McGonagall?"

"I've been studying the fourth and fifth Animagus training books, completed all the prerequisite training already, and I would like to attempt the transformation today."

"Today? My dear, it takes years to..." Suddenly, he narrowed his eyes. "Did you say _fourth and_ fifth, Miss McGonagall?"

"Yes, Professor."

She could see a twinkle in his eyes as a small smile appeared. "Would you care to perform them? I'd like to see what you've accomplished."

Minerva nodded her head with respect, they took out her wand from her pocket as Poppy clasped her hand for a second and whispered, "Good luck."

The green-eyed witch started by transforming a common object into what she wanted her Animagus to look like. She hardly paused between the transition of spells as she attempted to pass through the Transfiguration vortex with her mind. Her body changing form in a constant state of chaos, ending the transition by holding onto the form of her Animagus. A small, silver, tabby cat with the identification marks of her rectangle glasses near the eyes. Minerva held this form for a little over a minute before she changed back. Turning around to see the small class of five, including her Professor, astonished. Poppy just grinned, having seen it before. Minerva wasn't surprised by their reaction; in less than six months she had perfected what most students rarely complete in three years, and it's usually less than perfect.

Professor Dumbledore began to clap in appraisal, the rest of the class joined in as well. "Very impressive, Miss McGonagall, you completed each phase with precision and grace. Therefore, after class, I will be more than willing to begin your transformation. Prepare for a long night as it may take several hours."

"Thank you, Professor, I will," the young witch sat down at her seat then dived into more notes for the initial transformation, _'The Right of Passage'_.

_Min, what are you doing? _Her sister asked, her honey glazed voice echoed through their mind.

_What does it look like? I'm studying!_

_You've done everything correct since we started this. I honestly don't think you'll need to study, you're going to pass it, I know you will!_

_I appreciate your confidence, sister, but you're missing your lecture. Stop worrying about me!_

Poppy chuckled softly, then hurried to catch up on her notes. The rest of the hour passed by so quickly that when Professor Dumbledore announces, "Class dismissed", it startled her. The two advanced students passed by her, offering congratulations and luck. She thanked them while closing her books, then looked at Poppy once more.

"I'll tell Rola to excuse you from Quidditch practice, but I'm sure she already knows." She placed a hand on her shoulder. "Good luck, Min, I'll see you tomorrow."

Minerva watched her sister leave with a nervous smile.

"Are you ready, Miss McGonagall?" Dumbledore asked.

Looking up at her mentor, she pushed the nervous thoughts out her mind._ This is your chance to prove yourself, the very moment you've been devoting every minute of free time into!_ _Your more than ready Minerva, just close your eyes and say the spell..._

"I am, Professor," she answered with bold determination.

"Good, your confidence will serve you well during the process. Without such, the transformation would be a costly mistake." Professor Dumbledore waved his hand. Instantly, the furniture moved to both sides of the room, providing Minerva space to complete her right of passage as an Animagus. "Now, recite the spell for me."

Minerva recited the words she had memorized from the first day she was accepted into the class. "Reformatio Corporis Formaelectionis."

"Very good." His features grew very stern. "Now, I must warn you; this is a very dangerous task. I would not allow you to perform this action if I did not believe you to be ready. Remember to stretch out your senses and only grab the thread of magic that calls your memories. Follow and find the channel of magic that your Animagus leads you to." Dumbledore said, speaking his last minute advice towards his most prospective student.

Minerva nodded, clearing her thoughts from her mind as she readied her wand, weaving it in the air around her as she spoke the incantation. She ended the spell with her fir wood wand pointed towards the sky and her eyes involuntarily began to close as when she began to see sparks of unique light. There were soft glowing strands stretching over her, surrounding her and begging her to grapple onto them, but she refused, waiting for the strand that called to her deeply and personally. A soft purring whisper began to fill her mind as a lavender strand began to stretch towards her, the special voice that she knew Mico and Gracie to utter with her.

Her mind latched onto the strand instinctively as it curled around her gently, almost frightening her in the process. Pushing past her fear and forcing her excitement back into a stable amount, Minerva let the strand guide her towards the channel of magic. They passed through many doors, many of which reached out and called towards her. Their voices made her skin crawl, almost wanting to let go, to follow them and fight. An unusual behavior, she noted to herself, silently recalling her purpose and prepared her mind to resist the temptations ahead. All sorts of emotions flowed through her mind, quietly whispering and begging her to possess them. It was torture for her physical self, to go through so many emotions at once, and the longer she endured it, the more her mind felt as if it was slipping away from the Animagus' thread.

_No, you will not let go! You've worked far too hard for this moment, you will see this through Minerva!_ The new thoughts poured confidence throughout her mind. Her grip stopped slipping, retaining a strong hold that ever before.

Finally, she came across an open door. It was silent and refused to beg to anyone, but something unusual about this door caught her attention, and apparently, her Animagus' spirit as well. Along the channel's rim, emblems of symbolic writing she could not comprehend, glowed as her mental essence settled upon the door. Nothing about this door was what her books described as the channel she was suppose to embrace, yet, by simply looking at the symbols she knew this was _her_ door, specifically designed for _her kind_. The young witch didn't entirely understand, though her Animagus strand led her into the door without command as Minerva began feeling her mental essence taking the form of her familiar nude human body. She let go of the magical strand, letting it dissolve into a mist before reforming into a foggy glow of a silver tabby.

With a nod exchanged between them, they continued their walk into the channel as the door closed behind them, removing all accessible light. She only took a few steps before the strange letters swarmed around her and the tabby, striking her body with incredible force and scorching her skin as the symbolic lettering embedded itself into her. She cried out but no sound was made, almost driving her mad in the process. The pain subsided after a few moments, making it bearable for her to stand. Step by step, she and the tabby cat continued their walk. The sensation of being inside the channel was astoundingly blissful, but heart wrenching painful. Gradually, the young witch began to notice that with each step she took, the process was deliberately becoming antagonizing harder to make. She didn't have much time. Minerva turned towards her Animagus, looking into a familiar set of green eyes.

With one thought she let go of everything; her emotions, thoughts, memories and eventually her human form. The Animagus copied her emotional sway, and eventually Minerva began to see her human form slowly replacing the tabby cat in front of her. She herself began to feel smaller, flexible and far more aware of her surroundings than she could possibly imagine.

The entire process miserably tormenting as her markings flared up again, this time making her insides ignite, causing her to suffer anguish she thought it would never stop and her body aching to cry out, pleading for surrender, but Minerva refused. Her will and determination forced her to endure the everlasting affliction to complete what she longed for. A bright light began to form behind her thoughts as she continued to focus past the agony. The light eventually halted her sense and she slowly began to feel her heart heal from the agonizing experience before the black abyss surrounded her completely, utterly and compassionately.

* * *

><p>Albus watched as his most promising student chanted the rather complicated spell. He slowly took out his wand in case something went horribly wrong, though he had a suspicion that she'd complete her task, then moved behind her as she closed her eyes. Soon her body went limp, just as all students do as they attach their minds into their Animagus' magical threading bond, and he was right behind her when she fell, catching her lean figure in his arms before resting her head on a small pillow he conjured. Her fists clenched as her breathing hitched, her body began to writhe and sweat slowly started beading on her forehead from the mental strain impending down upon her.<p>

Judging by her reactions, Albus knew the doors were now tormenting the poor girl, just as they had done to him and every student which passed through the Right of Passage. He conjured up a small water basin with a washcloth and padded her face softly with the damp cloth. He lost count of time with his focus solely on detecting signs of a mental breaking. _Twenty... thirty... forty minutes? _He had no idea.

To his relief, the girl stopped moving and opened her eyes when the anomaly occurred, they glowed a bright neon blue. Strange symbols started etching themselves within her skin, shining through her clothes as if the letters were burning through the cloth.

He smiled softly. _Well, well, she found special door..._

As the minutes ticked by, he gradually began to notice small changes. Some were subtle and hardly recognizable while others... not so much. Her nose started to shrink, pressing in towards her face and her eyes became almond shaped as her skin slowly became a silky soft fur that clung to her shrinking body. In no more than a half hour, the young girl he knew so well had become a small silver tabby cat. Complete with her own set of whiskers, claws and a tail.

He waited five more minutes, watching for any more warning signs of disaster, but none occurred and Albus Dumbledore contacted the Head Matron. Miss McGonagall will need a place to sleep tonight where someone could monitor her and be with her when she woke up.

He chuckled softly, remembering his own experience.

**May 26th, 1940:**

Professor Dumbledore awoke subtlety, taking in yesterday's events slowly. It took him awhile to absorb that a third year student had successfully transformed into her Animagus. Even he had not completed such so soon, granted it was only a four month difference, but still, the accomplishment alone was astonishing. He made a mental note to award her as he changed into a set of amethyst wizard robes. A soft chime from his fire place echoed though his rooms before green smoke appeared in the chimney when the Head Nurse's head appeared from the smoke.

"Professor Dumbledore, are you awake yet? Miss McGonagall's starting to awaken."

"Ah, excellent news! Thank you, Madame Nurix, I'll be up in a moment."

_This should be interesting,_ Albus thought as he also took a handful of Floo powder and transported himself into the medical wing. His eyes immediately came upon a silver tabby in the Head Nurse's arms, swathed in a blanket. Albus slowly walked over the the pair, glancing at his newly transformed student. Her brilliant green eyes were wide with horror, shock, disbelief, fear? All incredibly understandable given the circumstances.

"McGonagall, I know you can hear me," Professor Dumbledore spoke to his student in a soft and reassuring tone. "You are in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts and your transformation went perfectly. I need you to calm yourself. Madam Nurix is going to place you on the bed now." He waited until the silver tabby was curled up on the bed, snuggled in the blanket, with her eyes poking out and staring at him. He chuckled softly, the sight was absolutely adorable

"It's time for you to change back into your human form, McGonagall. Calm your mind and think about your human features, experiences and memories as you recite the spell again in your mind." He patiently waited for a few moments. Eventually the small creature tucked under the blanked became the young, and persistently talented, witch he knew. McGonagall sat up on the bed, her eyes squinting and her right hand holding the side of her head, clearly bracing for an impending headache.

"I'll be in my office if you need anything," Madam Nurix said, walking off as Professor Dumbledore clapped quietly.

"Well done, Miss McGonagall, very well done."

She groaned softly. "You never told me how painful the entire process was going to be."

Albus chuckled. "You are correct, I didn't, however, would that have changed your ambition to complete your transformation?"

"No, but-"

"Then there was no point in me telling you, was there?" he smiled. "Besides, it would have only made you more nervous. Now, I do believe forty points are to be added in your name, Miss McGonagall, for your outstanding achievement."

"Thank you, Sir. Um... Professor, if you don't mind me asking, when did you complete your transformation?"

"Near the end of the first month, in my fourth year."

Minerva's eyes widened in shock. She had finished the transformation nearly four months earlier than her Professor, she had never dreamed...

"Is there anything else you'd like to ask me, Miss McGonagall?" he asked her calmly and with a gentle smile, cutting off her thoughts. Even if his student didn't ask the question he was looking for, he had every intention of informing her himself.

"I, um..." she closed her mouth for a moment, thinking about her experience. "The channel I went though, it didn't look like anything the books described and it didn't feel like a _typical_ channel should have. Then there were those symbols on the door, they engraved themselves into me like fire." She rubbed her arms, shaking off the memory starting to reform in her mind. Her eyes caught glimpse of a deep crimson symbol on the back of her hand. Startled, she rolled up her sleeve to her elbow, revealing the lettering and gasped.

"Don't worry, my dear, they'll go away in a few days, although I should probably warn you when that you transform, the markings will appear again for several hours"

"Are you certain?"

Her Professor nodded his head. "I had the same experience during my own transformation, and yes, you are correct; that door is not a _typical_ channel that most take. There is an Ancient legend said that only those who are chosen in the art of Transfiguration at a young age, are allowed access into this channel. No one is entirely sure why this channel opens itself to us, but when it happens, it is a very rare and extraordinary three people in Hogwarts history have been known to go through it, and you are now the fourth. You should be proud and honored of such high recognition, Miss McGonagall."

"I... thank you, Professor Dumbledore, I am," Minerva said, lightly blushing under such appraisal. Her eyes flickered to the back of the room, making Albus turn his head to take a look as well. Minerva's friends Rolanda Hooch, Poppy Pomfrey, Augusta Louise and Pomona Sprout were near the door, waiting for their turn to visit their friend.

"I'll leave you alone, your friends will want to chat with you."

"I have no doubt about that." She smiled again. "Thank you, Professor, I don't know how I would have completed this without your help."

"You are very welcome, McGonagall, but I assure you, you would have passed the Rite without me. You are an immensely talented witch, my dear. That being said, make sure to take it easy for the next few days. Even the most powerful witches and wizards know when they're bodies are need of a good rest." He winked at her, patted her shoulder then walked towards the fireplace. The four girls ran to her side after Dumbledore started his exit, all entirely too excited and eager to her the latest news.

"Min!" Poppy exclaimed as she hugged her friend.

"We were all worried about you last night, especially Mico."

"It's good to know you're still alive!" Pomona said with a small chuckle as she took her turn in embracing her friend.

"I don't know how long I'd be able to stand Poppy practicing her healing spells on me if you didn't- ouch!" Poppy shoved her elbow into Rolanda's side, glaring at her hawk-eyed friend. Minerva laughed at their friendly banter. It was good to have them at her side again. Poppy's hazel eyes became serious again as she looked back at her green-eyed sister.

"You did completed it right, your Right of Passage to become an Animagus?" the pudgy witch asked, her brown eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Of course I did!"

"What was it like?" Poppy's eagerness to hear about the Right shone through like a beacon.

"Incredibly painful, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally," she looked at Pomona, "Much like going through a Devil's Snare, only much more deep inside in the mind. There were these doors that talked to you, whispering and begging for you to stop and enter them. Eventually, I came across a rather odd door with strange lettering on the rim. I've never heard of anything like it in my studies before!"

"Nor I," Poppy spoke quietly. "What do you suppose it was?"

"Not even Professor Dumbledore knows for certain."

"Did you go in?" Augusta asked.

Minerva nodded. "And when I did, the emblems on the door branded themselves into me like a hot iron."

"_What?" _Rolanda yelled, outraged that such a practice and process was allowed.

"Hush Rola!" Pomona restrained the hawk-eyed girl.

"That should not be allowed!" she turned to Minerva, her golden yellow eyes burning with outrage. "It's cruel and-"

"It wasn't a normal experience, Rola, just about every student never experienced such a torture. I went through a special door, one that only shows itself to those that were chosen for Transfiguration. It's a very rare event-"

"I should hope so!"

"-and one that should be taken with dignity and honor."

Rolanda stayed silent for a moment, arms crossed, pursed lips and golden eyes staring at Minerva intensely, then sighed and threw her hands in the air. "I give up! I've idea how you can you consider that honorable, having to go through torture because of you were chosen for a specific special talent. It's madness, the lot of it!"

All five laughed, bringing tears to their eyes. Rolanda had a knack of saying exactly what they needed to hear to set the mood of the room back into happiness.

"I know," Minerva said through her blissful chuckles, "it doesn't makes sense!"

"Not one little bit!" The hawk eyed girl kissed the new Animagi's cheeks and hugged her tightly. "Now, can you show us your Animagus, or should you wait?"

Augusta snorted, "Rola, please, let's give Min a break. She already suffered a stressful night!

"Besides, it probably wouldn't be the best idea to be changing into a cat right now, she needs her rest," Pomona pointed out, forcing a sight from Rolanda, but she snapped right back into her teasing mood again with a smirk.

"Fine, but after you get done with your classes tomorrow, we want to see it!"

"It's a deal."

* * *

><p><strong>Ladies and Gentlemen, we have finally reached World War II and the Grindelwald era I've been so anxious to get to! Enjoy! If you're wondering what <em>Anhänger <em>and_ Untergang_ mean, visit my website or Twitter! (The meanings do not have a significance to the story, but it might be of interest to see the backstory behind them!)**

**Oh, and make sure to give your love to Em, she's really been amazing by dealing with these long chapters!**

**~LinK**


	12. Hidden Findings

_**Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way**_

_**I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day**_

_**Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret**_

_**Tell the ones, the ones I loved**_

_**I never will forget**_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **A reminder to my fellow American readers: our country is weird and we use the Fahrenheit system, while most of the world doesn't. Haha!

_**OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!**_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11 - Hidden Findings<strong>

**June 3rd, 1940:**

The young witch was finishing her extra assignments from Professor Merrythought while everyone else was furiously writing their Defence essays when a knock on the classroom door echoed through the halls. The sound rang in her ears in an odd acute sound she hadn't gotten used to yet. Her Animagus abilities were slowly adapting into her human form, she even noticed a bit of night vision seeping into her retina's. All the students looked behind them, then towards their professor in silent questioning. Merrythought sighed in slight irritation, placed her quill down then swiftly made her way towards the door and opened it with a wave of her hand.

"What do you want? My students are in the middle of- Oh, Minister, what a surprise!"

Minerva's eyes widened, though not in surprise like everyone else, but in nervousness. Professor Dumbledore had told her the Ministry would be sending someone here to sign her Registration form.

The intruding witch laughed. "Good afternoon to you as well, Galatea. I have some business to attend with Miss McGonagall. Might I borrow her from you?"

"Yes, of course." Professor Merrythought turned around and projected her voice towards the class. "McGonagall!"

Minerva turned as if she hadn't heard a thing, however, she was rather surprised to see Merrythought wearing a small smile. "Yes, Professor?"

"Gather your things, the Minister would like to speak with you."

She did as told, packed her books into her bag and left the room with a trail of whispers behind her. _Great, there's going to be a load of rumors tomorrow. Isn't that wonderful?_ Minerva thought spitefully.

The woman carried a small folder with her, her wand stuck out of her purple tartan robe pocket slightly. She screamed 'pompous politician' but also a woman of authority, control and a bit of empathy which was surprising.

"Hello, Miss McGonagall. I'm Evangeline Orpington, the Minister of Magic." She stretched her hand out in greetings. Minerva hesitated for a moment, trying to figure the woman out, but firmly shook her hand anyway. "I assume Professor Dumbledore told you I'd be here?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good," Evangeline said with a smile. "Come, the Headmaster's awaiting us in his office."

"Professor Dippet has to be involved?"

The woman nodded. "Indeed, and if Professor Dumbledore not been called away, he'd have also been involved! You are only a mere _student_ after all, my dear, and far from the legal age."

"But my parents don't have to know?"

"No, dear, Isobel isn't required to know about your abilities." Minerva's eyes narrowed at Evangeline's use of her mother's first name, as the woman continued to speak, "In fact, Professor Dumbledore asked me to keep your transformation as quiet as possible."

Minerva smiled with slight mischief. "Do you know why?"

"He believes you're a prime candidate for the Aurors, and if I may say so myself, I believe he's correct. These are troubled times, and despite your age, you're talent can not be ignored. I'd be honored to have you join the ranks, having served with your mother before and especially considering you're the youngest Animagus in over two centuries!"

Minerva stopped in her tracks, dumbfounded. "Two_ centuries?" _She shook her head in disbelief. "No, there must be some mistake."

"There is no mistake, Miss McGonagall, you truly are a wonder. Your power is a gift, one that I pray can eventually be put into good use."

The way the Minister looked at Minerva made her uncomfortable. She had seen that expression before, though she couldn't pinpoint where, and it warned the young witch stay cautious of this woman.

"What do you mean?" she asked, using the curious and innocent tone of the child she was perceived to be.

Evangeline smiled with sly intent, though her eyes sparkled with amusement, which partially bewildered Minerva. The woman turned on her heel and continued down the hall while she spoke again, "It means, dear girl, that your future has vast possibilities for achievement! There are many that would kill to be in your spotlight, I wouldn't throw away what others are working hard to achieve for you."

The young witch narrowed her eyes, but didn't respond. Plans were being made about her future behind her back, that much was clear. Minerva knew one thing; she'd have to proceed with her future plans in caution because if there was one thing she despised most, it was being a pawn in a puppeteer's chess match.

**June 25th, 1940:**

It was a beautiful day in Aquae Lament. The birds were chirping away their song, the tree branches were swaying with the soft breeze and the sky way preparing to drop the much anticipated Summer rain. A perfect day for the trio of sisters to enjoy relaxing in the grass. Rolanda and Poppy were nearly asleep by the wonderful conditions. Minerva on the other hand, had many thoughts swarming her and the more she pondered about it, the more it began to nag at her.

_If Avrenim wasn't activated until 1938, why was I able to mentally connect with Rola and Poppy beforehand?_

Her mind flashed to the _Ross' Family Record_, remembering what it said about mental connections._ 'Along with being able to project their astral, the magician is able to create mental channels, bonds, with a willing mind of another magician... They__** can not**__ be created before the initial activation of the astral...'_

Minerva's green eyes fluttered open and unintentionally spoke her question aloud, "So, why did I?"

"Why did you _what?"_ Rolanda asked before taking a bite of the gorgeous red apple in her hand. Minerva propped her elbows against the ground to face her sister.

"Rola, do you remember when our minds first connected?" The dark haired witch turned her head, speaking to her other sister, "What about you, Poppy?"

They both shook their heads, confusion written on each of their faces.

"Not really. We've always been like this since I can remember," the hawk eyed girl stated with calm seriousness. The dark haired witch frowned, she couldn't remember either.

Poppy twisted her body around to look at her sister directly. "Min, I know that look in your eyes, you're up to something."

"I just find it odd that I've defied the typical astral ability rules, I shouldn't have been able activate or create connections with you two until after my astral activated."

The hawk-eyed witch laughed. "Minerva, if you tend to be the exception to everything, why does this come as a shock to you?"

"It just doesn't seem natural..."

Rolanda smirked, "Oh stop your worrying, dear sister! Come on, I think it's high time we get on our brooms again, don't you?"

"With the oncoming storm? I think not, Rolanda," Isobel's voice intruded from behind. "Your màthair would have a fit if I allowed you to do such a thing."

The hawk eyed girl shrugged with a smile. "She's always worried about me!"

"And a good thing too," Poppy playfully pushed her, "or you'd be in St. Mungo's every other week!"

_**Plop!**_ A single droplet of moisture hit Minerva's cheek. The young witch smiled, touched the warm speck and looked up as several more dripped from the sky.

"Come along girls," Isobel ushered them, initiating a groan of disappointment from the trio.

"But we love the rain, can't we stay out?"

"You'll catch a cold, Minerva, and with Cayden's allergies already acting up, the last thing we want is a cold running around the house."

"Don't you like the rain, Màthair?" the green-eyed witch asked genuinely while the group walked towards the tunnel.

Isobel continued walking as her voice turned cold once again, "No, I don't particularly enjoy it."

* * *

><p>As Poppy and Rolanda made it home before the downpour began and Minerva found herself resisting the urge to sit on her window sill as her Animagus, wanting to keep her new ability secret from her family, so she confined herself to the Library. Over the summer, she frequently discovered cat instincts that were slowly integrated into her everyday life. The young witch found it extremely fascinating, and as Professor Dumbledore suggested, she'd been keeping a journal of what she'd like to research when she had time in the future and the list was growing every day.<p>

It didn't take much for Minerva to think of what she wanted to read, or in this case discover, as her thoughts about Avrenim resurfaced. She spent the rest of the day there, only leaving once for dinner then scurrying back to find answers. Despite her efforts, they turned up to be disappointed and the dark haired witch was about to give up when suddenly she had an idea. Granted it was very bold and daring, but a clever one at that.

_The Ministry is only alerted when magic required of spells is used... there isn't a spell for mental awareness of surroundings, not like mine anyway. _She looked around, making sure she was alone. _Still, I'll have to be quick about it..._

As soon as her emerald eyes closed, she ignited her magic, extending her awareness tenfold. It swept over every bookshelf, table, lamp, floorboard, wall and_... door frame? _She cut off her magic as her emerald eyes snapped open. The witch dashed towards the back, near the dusty biography section, and gazed at the tapestry covered wall. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as her hand slowly began to pull back the cover.

"Minerva," the witch's hand froze and her jaw clenched upon hearing the sharply ridged, familiar voice from behind, "leave the tapestry alone, please, it's ancient."

The corner of her mouth twitched in amusement as she lowered her hand while slowly turning around.

"Of course they are," she replied, walking out the library. "I'll make sure to keep that in mind, next time."

Isobel raised a brow in mild curiosity but didn't act upon it directly. "It's getting late, why don't you get ready for bed? I'll come up to tuck you in after Malcom and Cayden-"

"You needn't bother, Màthair," she tried to speak calmly as she could, but still get the message across. She'd gotten over most of her anger, but she still didn't trust her mother, "I'm not a little girl anymore."

"No, you're not. Very well then, good night, my dear."

Minerva nodded, satisfied that no argument had ignited, she was tired of lying every night. The young witch got ready for bed, however, next time couldn't come soon enough for the young and curious witch. She'd found an entrance into the Enchanted Hallway and she need to act tonight.

As midnight approached, Minerva heard the familiar footsteps of her parents going to bed, murmuring to each other as they did. She waited ten minutes after the door closed before crawling out of the covers. Mico and Gracie opened their groggy eyes slightly with the movement, then closed them again, deciding that sleep was better than investigating. The young witch easily transformed into her Animagus, slid through the little cat door, sauntering off towards the library with stealth. It was rather fun to prance around in her tabby form, she found, and her tail was one of the best part with it curling and twitching with her mood. Upon reaching the tapestry again without interruptions, her white whiskers twitched with amusement before Minerva transformed back with ease and grace. She tightened the ribbon's hold of her hair quickly then noticed the crimson marking on her bare arms, and although they no longer caused her surprise, they made her extremely self-conscious and did all she could to hide them from her family.

_All right, Màthair, no more games,_ the witch thought as she removed the tapestry from one side, revealing a small bookshelf in the shape of a door. Minerva frowned, then began to search for a hidden leverage. She reached for the book whose binding was in horrible condition and attempted to take it, when the shelf jerked backwards and slide to the left. Behind the self was exactly what Minerva predicted, a spiral stone staircase leading to rooms of discovery.

Quickly, she dashed up the steps, not looking back as the shelf moved back into position. The staircase was lit with open flame candles, and under any other circumstances, it might have given her a chilling feeling that she couldn't be there, but she was vastly too consumed with curiosity. At the top of the stairs, she found a vast hallway that seemed to stretch into infinity with more doors than she could count. Each one had a golden plaque with the name of each door. There was one door in particular that caught Minerva's interest. It wasn't as old as the others and the torch nearby flickered an unnatural blue and silver flame.

_**Ross-McGonagall Archives**_

The witch smiled, then opened the door. The room was no larger than her own bedroom, but the ceiling spiraled up towards the sky another twenty feet at least.

"Wow," Minerva breathed.

"Indeed, this place is quite extraordinary, isn't it?"

The young witch turned around, half expecting Isobel, but soon realized it wasn't her voice, nor did it belong to anyone she knew.

"Who's there?" she asked, silently cursing herself for not bringing her wand as she closed the door.

"That isn't a very appropriate sentence, my lady, for this one is not a who as this one is not a living being," spoke a little white, glowing ball with unnatural wings. It was similar to a snitch, except the ball was about the size of Minerva's head and the wings didn't flutter a million times per second. The glowing ball floated down twenty feet to level itself to the young witch.

"Well, aren't you a particular little bugger?"

"This one prefers to be called, Auxilium," the ball hummed.

"All right, Auxi, can you find-"

"Auxilium, Miss."

The young witch smirked. "I know, but 'Auxi' sounds better."

The ball glowed a shade of fiery orange for a moment before speaking, "This one is becoming quite frustrated with your attempts to rename what has been named."

Minerva snickered, "So, have you given up?"

Auxilium uttered an odd noise that the witch assumed was a sigh of defeat, _'This one will ask what Lil' Miss McGonagall would like to see..."_

With that, the young witch grinned in triumph, "I need everything you have on the astral ability and a map to this place, please."

"Which would Lil' Miss McGonagall like first, the map or records?"

"There's a map? Well then, the map if you please, Auxi, and I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Of course, Lil' Miss McGonagall."

Auxilium zoomed up, far beyond her sight and the witch shook her head in amusement. With a softly distinct _**poof**_ sound, white magic appeared on the on the center table and a scroll appeared. Minerva opened it with wide eyes. It was an entire map of the Manor, complete with the different floors, ever changing rooms, the Enchanted Hallway, and... living beings. She easily found her self, then searched for Isobel and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted her with Robert in their room.

Another _**poof**_ echoed softly on the table. A few books and scrolls were gathered in a tidy pile.

"Does this please, Lil' Miss McGonagall?" Auxilium hovered around her head like a pest.

"Yes, I think that'll do nicely. Thank you, Auxi."

"Auxilium..."

Minerva rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I think someone is on the move, and she's not very happy either..."

The witches green eyes widened with horror. _Oh no, not her! Not now!_

"Auxi, can you shrink these, then release the charm when I say 'safe'?"

"Of course I can, Lil' Miss-"

"Then do it, quickly!" The young witch barked. On command, everything shrank until they could fit into her pocket with ease. Minerva grabbed them while she asked another vital question, "Auxi, what's the fastest way out of here and towards my room?"

"Fifteen doors to the left, you'll find a portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw. She'll let you pass into her stairwell-"

"Don't tell Màthair I was here, Auxi, can you do that?"

"I'm not entirely sure-"

"Please, Auxi! She'll wonder how I got here undetected and I'll be forced to explain that I'm an Animagus and-"

"All right, all right, this one sees Lil' Miss McGonagall's point and will comply to her wish. Now get a move on before you're spotted!"

Minerva dashed out the door, quickly transforming into her Animagus and rushed towards the portrait. She heard footsteps from the library passageway and immediately ran for the shadows. She kept her eyes closed, in fear of light reflecting off of them. Her ears twitched nervously at the sound of Isobel's footsteps entering the hallway. She could hear her mother's frantic breathing.

"Oh, Minerva, what have you gotten into now? Can't leave well enough alone..." The far left door opened.

"Ah, Mistress McGonagall, what a late night surprise..."

The tabby cat took the advantage and ran sticking to the shadows to prevent detection. She found the portrait already open and jumped into the hole. It close behind her.

"You should be more careful, young one," a cool, sharp but loving voice came from the frame. Minerva rolled her green feline eyes and twitched her whiskers in amusement as she continued to way back into her room and through the cat door.

When she transformed back, she felt two pairs of eyes staring at her. "Oh don't look so surprised, especially you, Mico. You've seen my tabby form before, don't get your whiskers in a knot now!"

Gracie scurried out the room, completely terrified. Minerva sighed, mentally informing herself to give Gracie some time to adjust as she emptied her pocket, settling the miniature books and scrolls with her wand in hand.

"Come on, Auxi, don't let me down... _safe."_

Immediately, the grew back to normal size. Minerva grinned. _Merlin, he might be an annoying little bugger, but he sure has his uses!_

She waved her wand, muttering, _"Lumos,"_ then flipped open the books, finding their titles. Auxilium found everything she could have hoped for; Records, methods, diaries and multiple diagrams of the astral ability from her ancestors. If this wouldn't help her, she didn't know what would.

Minerva stuffed all but the records into her banishing suitcase, she'd have to thank her father for buying her that one of these days, then opened the scroll. She had to find it, proof that her mother didn't know about the astrals.

_**Ross and McGonagall Astral Activation Records**_

_Laudine Ross: Activation never occurred, cause unknown.  
><em>_Tradisi Ross: Forcibly activated in 1877, cause unknown - mental scarring occurred.  
><em>_Isobel Ross: Activated in 1911  
><em>_Minerva McGonagall: Original Activation in 1927 - astral suppressed by Isobel Ross. Reactivated in 1937.  
><em>_Malcom McGonagall: Awaiting Activation  
><em>_Cayden McGonagall: Awaiting Activation_

"Suppressed? What does it mean, _suppressed?"_ Minerva didn't mean to speak aloud, but her furious confusion got the better of her. An unpleasant feeling of nausea came over her. She felt violated, tainted and extremely disturbed as of why her mother hadn't informed her of such beforehand. It was odd to feel no tears, despite the anguish pitted in her stomach as she fought to control her breathing and her thoughts.

The door handle clicked. Quickly, the young witch threw on her dressing robe, covering the slowly disappearing markings, then pointed her wand at the door when it opened, shining the light upon the intruder. Isobel.

"Minerva-?" The woman could have easily continued speaking, but seeing her daughter's dry eyes so consumed with broken emotions, she abruptly stopped.

"_What did you do to me?"_

"What in-the-name-of-Merlin has gotten into you, child?"

"Oh, stop acting so innocent, it's infuriating!" The young witch ignored her mother's sharp inhaled huff and continued her onslaught of questions, "You suppressed my astral when it activated in 1927, when I was two year old. _Why?_ Why is it that when something happens, you're always hiding something from me!"

"Minerva, please, calm yourself! You'll wake your brothers-"

"No, I'm tired of this, tired of being lied to all the time! I want to know the truth behind the lies which have continuously plagued my life!"

The young witch witness an impassioned snap within Isobel. Her cold hazel eyes flared with a fire Minerva had never seen before tonight.

"The _truth?" _her mother scoffed harshly. "Sometimes I hardly know it myself. You _can't_ know everything, darling, despite what you want."

Minerva crossed her arms across her chest in frustration. "You're avoiding the question."

"I am, aren't I? You're a clever witch, dear, almost_ too_ clever for your own good." The woman shrugged oddly. "I suppose I can answer your question though." Isobel sighed, leaning against the wall and closed her eyes as she spoke her explanation, "When your astral activated I was scared, Minerva. I know you don't think I'm capable of such feelings, but I am. I was utterly petrified at the thought of a Muggle seeing your astral, or some sort of magic, and that your father would've been taken from me. I'm a coward, and couldn't stand that feeling of helplessness."

The woman opened her stern, cold, hazel eyes in an attempt to unsettle Minerva. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

But the young witch stood strong in opposition. She shook her head, dismissing her mother's question with her own, seeing through her mother's words. "That may be the base layer of your action, but it's not the real reason. You're still hiding something and it's not too hard to figure out, your eyes betray you. Why must you lie to me? Don't you know how much it hurts? _Please,_ I'm begging you, Màthair; from the small part of me that still hopes you're locking emotions away in a tower because of something I have no control over!"

Minerva held her gaze upon the witch with piercing and demanding emerald eyes. She had waited far too long to ask this, but now was the perfect time. She needed answers. Isobel's eyes flared open with either surprise or horror- the young witch could never be sure these days -but her lips stayed thin and shut for a good time. Minerva's eyes flickered to her mother's white-knuckled fists as a glinting red, treacherous liquid slowly seeped through the cracks of her long, slender fingers. The woman didn't seem to recognize her nails had cut through her flesh. Finally, her lips trembled and she swallowed before responding.

"Slash away such hope, darling, it does you no good. There is nothing more I can say on this matter. I may be hiding something else, and I may not be. Either way, it's no business of yours." Isobel shook her head with maleficent intent, clearing her thoughts and hardening her features again. "Are we done here? Or do you have more _questions_ for me? You're quite bold and daring to confront me like this."

Minerva rolled her eyes, responding with a sharp tone she adored which embodied her courage and boldness, unlike her mother's icy rigid voice, "None that you can answer, no doubt."

Isobel turned on her heel to leave, then stopped short, her head turned over her shoulder lightly and spoke with a new tone, the young witch hadn't heard since that night when Tradisi visited; tense, demanding and fatally serious, "How did you know about your suppression?"

"Auxi gave me this." Minerva stretched out her hand, giving her mother the scroll and praying she didn't notice the emblem slowly beginning to fade on her hand. Isobel took the scroll with eager surprise, maybe a bit of anger.

"Auxilium?" Isobel shook her head in dismissal. "No, you lie. He'd have told me if you entered the Enchanted Hallway if you had."

"I don't lie!" the young witch firmly insisted. "I asked him to lie for me so I could get away from you noticed."

"That's impossible, Auxilium only takes orders from the Inheritor of the Manor!"

Minerva simply shrugged, she may not know why Auxilium obeyed her, but it caused Isobel to ponder for a moment, and that made a small smirk tug at her lips. "That's the truth."

Isobel could no longer hide the emotions building up inside of her. "I must insist that you never go back up there, Minerva. There's a reason I don't want you up there, you have no idea what you're meddling with."

The young witch looked at her mother directly in the eyes, her determination apparent. "You can try to enforce it, Màthair, but I should warn you that I'll find away to get through. There are things I've learned which even the Ministry has no true authority over, despite what you believe."

Her mother's hazel eyes widened with something akin to fear, she stuttered, trying to form a question or demand, but then fled down the hall instead.

"Màthair?" Minerva wasn't sure why she called after the woman, but if what her mother said was true; Isobel had done something terrible for her daughter's sake. She owed her something in that regard, but she found it very hard to overcome the voices reminding her of the agreement Isobel had made.

Mico's paws tugged at her gown, forcing her bare shoulders' skin to glow in the moonlight. Her crimson emblems seemed to glare with anger. The young witch looked away from them, hating them for another reason now. They could easily give her family a shock, and questions would most certainly be asked. For once she had to agree with her mother; questions aren't always for the best.

"Time for bed, boy?"

Mico swirled his body around, exposing his adorable belly, and let out a soft mew. Minerva giggled, gave him a gently belly rub, then climbed into bed.

**September 4th, 1940:**

The start of the Minerva's fourth year brought many changes once more within Minerva's life, including Malcom's arrival at Hogwarts. The fact that her brother was sorted into Ravenclaw, and that he was following the infamously seclusive Tom Riddle around like he was a god, irritated her beyond belief, but it wasn't why she was upset. Nor was it because one of Gryffindor's newest recruits, a half-giant name Rubeus Hagrid, who was constantly being bullied by Riddle, that caused her distress. No, it was her mother's over joyous response in a letter, stating how proud she was, giving Malcom her best wishes and a few tips about the Tower. The Gryffindor girl's lips thinned and her nostrils flared with irritation. She wanted to be mad at her brother, but couldn't. He wasn't the cause of all this anguish and there was no need to drive him away to relieve her built up feelings, she kept telling herself while she thanked Malcom for relaying the owl to her, then strode off to Transfiguration, entirely too happy that it was her first hour class today with her four girls following right behind her.

"Good God, Minerva, you're wearing clothes as if we were preparing for winter! What's up with you?" Augusta said with a small smile of amusement, but the dark haired witch didn't comply with the jest.

"Nothing," she muttered with a shake of her head, not entirely liking the fact that her 'condition' rendered her to wearing long clothing during Summer- something her own mother never picked upon, or at least didn't make a fuss over it.

"It's not nothing, Min.

"Rola-"

"Oh, hush you," the hawk eyed girl said with a bit of a smirk Minerva did not share. "Just because you're self conscious doesn't mean she can't know-"

"I don't like that any of you know! I hate it! Just drop it will you? I'm mad enough as it is with Màthair having her _perfect_ son, I don't need you spreading the latest gossip about _Momentously Perfect McGonagall!" _Minerva didn't stick by to listen to a defense, she briskly walked off, sealing off all connections within her mind. She was done with everything and everyone.

"Min, wait! Please, just stop for a moment!" Poppy ran up to her sister. "You don't mean that, you're only upset!"

Minerva abruptly turned on her heal, seething, "Don't you start defending her! You of all people!"

"Don't you ask me to put myself between you two, Min, I can't do that!" the honey glazed voice was faltering. "Please, don't say anymore, just-"

"All right, fine! I won't!" Minerva turned on her heel and ran, transforming into her tabby form as she did.

On her way out, she could have worn Pomona softly muttered, "Well, it's about time she's ranted..."

She didn't go to Transfiguration, nor did she attend any class at all that day. She hid in a tree on the castle grounds, letting the breeze ruffled her fur and sway her tail. As a cat, she couldn't cry, and it seemed to save her. The young witch realized she had wrongly accused Rolanda and Poppy, got on the wrong edge with Augusta, and she felt horrible. The year hadn't even started and she was already furious with Isobel.

_I need a break from the insanity. A very long break..._ Minerva sighed, as much as a cat could, finally deciding to not come home for the holidays when the time came. Before she knew it, sunset was upon her. The tabby climbed down from the tree and transformed back. The young witch dug under her uniform collar for the Time Turner Professor Dumbledore had given her a few days ago, turned it about twelve times and activated it.

The first thing she did was run up to the Transfiguration department, praying her friends were still there. Her mind raced with what she'd tell them, but when she finally fixated her eyes upon the four in the hall, all her planning has gone away. Rolanda spotted her, then turned away, walking towards the classroom. Minerva sprinted to her side.

"Rola, wait! Please, wait!"

The girl crossed her arms. "Why? So you can falsely accuse me again?"

"No! I'm sorry, Rola, I'm so terribly sorry! I shouldn't have let my anger get the better of me, nor should I have directed it at you, Poppy, Augusta, Pomona- or else for that matter -when none of this isn't their fault! I'm sorry, Rolanda, please, forgive me."

The girl's eyes were still wide with surprise. "O-of course I forgive you, Min!" She embraced her dark haired friend with a sisterly passion. "I could never stay mad at you for long, you know how my mind works anyway..."

"So, you decided to come back?" a bittersweet honey voice spoke from behind them.

"Oh Poppy, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

The girl held her hand up then smiled. "It's all right, Min, no need to repeat it. We all knew you were building up the tension."

Pomona chuckled. "You've got to let the steam out of the engine, dear, or else it'll blow. In this case, I think the conductor didn't do his job."

Augusta rolled her eyes and her golden hair shook with her head in amusement at the Hufflepuff's analogy. Minerva took a step towards the charm-challenged Gryffindor.

"Gusta, to answer your previous question; the reason I'm wearing long clothing is because when I transform into my Animagus, those markings you saw last year, re-appear for a few hours."

The girl smiled and nodded. "I figured so, but my God, you really must be sweating! It's already twenty-eight degrees out here!"

The five girls, once again reunited, faced the rest of their day, or again for Minerva, with brave smiles having survived a row. Although Minerva had to force herself to stay awake, she too made it through the day with relatively minor difficulty. It was during bed time that when something interesting happened again. All four Gryffindor girls were removing their uniforms and replacing them with comfortable night clothes, when Poppy gasped.

"Merlin's beard, Min, your markings!"

"What about them?" the dark haired witch said groggily. The usually calm girl was at her side in a few moments. She grabbed her friend's wrist and pointed to her arm.

"That's not normal, they've never been a glaring red before!"

Indeed, Minerva had been so exhausted that she hadn't noticed the change. "They were like that for a bit over the summer, granted they were not as noticeable then. They should have gone away by now..."

"Do you think we should alert Professor Dumbledore?" Rolanda asked, pulling the covers back on her bed.

"I think it would be a good idea, Minerva. There's something about this just doesn't feel right."

Augusta snorted. "Poppy, when _does_ something ever feel right to you? Honestly, you worry too much, I bet it's just from all the stress today. Let the Minerva sleep, Goodness knows she needs it!"

Minerva couldn't have agreed more with the golden haired girl. Her vision was becoming blurry from lack of sleep and she could barely stand up straight without swaying slightly. "I'll ask him before Animagus Studies if he thinks it's a problem. I'm too tired to bother him right now and I'm sure he needs his sleep as well."

Poppy sighed but nodded her head in agreement as she crawled into her own bed. She didn't get much sleep that night, unable to get the unusual crimson emblems out of her head.

* * *

><p><strong>Auxilium is so much fun to mess with. He's like the Harry Potter version of R2-D2 or C3-P0 from Star Wars, and thus, will be making an appearance in the future adding a bit of comic relief!<strong>

**Anyway, if you've made it this far, and realize that there are a lot of questions that haven't been addressed- you're on the right track, don't worry. Questions will linger for a while as answers will take time!**

**~LinK**


	13. Deliberately Calculated

_**Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way**_

_**I glory in the sight, as darkness **__**takes the day**_

_**Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret**_

_**Tell the ones, the ones I loved**_

_**I never will forget**_

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><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's**_

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><p><strong>Chapter 12 - Deliberately Calculated<strong>

**September 5th, 1940**

It was usual for Minerva with to arrive ten minutes early for Animagus Studies. It was not, however, usual to show up after his last Transfiguration class- thirty minutes before he opened his doors for his unique and powerful students.

"Good afternoon, Professor."

The wizard looked up, his sapphire eyes twinkling with amusement as he smiled in return. He put his quill down and move the papers aside as he spoke. "Good afternoon, Miss McGonagall. Are you looking forward to showing everyone your new ability?"

The witch hesitated for a moment then nodded. "Yes, Professor."

"Excellent!" The wizard moved from his desk, waving his wand to erase the writing on the board.

Minerva bit her lip and swallowed. "Actually, Professor, I'm nervous."

Dumbledore whirled around to face her in confusion. "Not about the transformation, I hope?"

"No, Sir." The witch shook her head and unclipped the cuffs on her uniform and tore her blouse sleeve back, exposing her arm with her markings glaring with ferocity, Dumbledore nearly dropped his wand. "It's about these. I transformed yesterday morning, but they haven't disappeared yet."

The professor made his way to her side quickly. He took hold of her wrist with one hand and the other trailed his fingers across the emblems. Instantly, a jolt of pain seared through her arm, forcing a gasp from Minerva as she tugged away sharply. Dumbledore retracted his fingers but grasped her hand tighter, keeping her steady.

"Please, don't do that again," she pleaded quietly as she looked into his eyes with hands trembling in fear.

"This is very strange, McGonagall. Only once in my life has my own markings acted this way and it was during an intense duel with equally harsh emotions." The professor looked at the glaring red symbols then back at her.

Minerva licked her dry lips. "They've never done this before, nor did they emit pain when Poppy examined them last night."

"And Miss Pomfrey is not an Animagus, nor has she gone through the door." He quickly let go of her and fled into his office while giving out a single order, "Stay here!"

Minerva obeyed willingly. She was frightened now, having only seen 'that' look in Professor Dumbledore's eyes a few times, and they were never under pleasant circumstances. She waved her hand, attempting to close and lock the entrance doors, but frowning when nothing happened and resorting to the use her wand to achieve such a simple task, which was rather frustrating. Moments later she began to hear voices from Dumbledore's office. Hearing the distinct crackling of flames, she knew he was communicating via Floo Powder. A rigid, but distraught voice of a woman was on the other line. The only thing Minerva could be certain of was the fact that it wasn't her mother, and for that, she was thankful.

"You're joking. No, you must be!" It was Professor Merrythought. "The girl's shown no signs of such-"

"Galatea, please, I'm quite serious! I've had my markings burn crimson before, but it was under quite different circumstances. It's the only other possible _known_ explanation. I'm not sure whether to pray that I'm right or wrong. I despise unknowns."

"All right, Albus, I believe you and you might want to move if I'm to come through. I absolutely detest these contraptions."

Moments later, Professor Merrythought emerged from the office with several smudges of soot and her usual tight french bun was in disarray, though she seemed to have more important things to worry about than appearance. Dumbledore appeared behind her moments later with a phoenix at on his shoulder, the bird squawked as his colleague rushed to the young witch, grabbing Minerva's exposed arm.

She tried to keep quiet, but when Merrythought's fingers touched her markings and the burning surged tenfold, she shrieked, "Stop it! Please, stop!" The elder witch immediately flinched her fingers away with wide, fearful eyes as Minerva protectively tucked her arm to her chest. "Don't touch them again, please, it burns like fire!"

Professor Merrythought surprised her, showing compassion by gently cupping her face, being careful not to brush against Minerva's marking on the side of her neck. "Oh, child, what did you get yourself into yesterday?"

Minerva swallowed, then explained that technically she'd spent most of the day in her Animagus form after a row with her friends, then that she used the Time-Turner to attend the classes she missed. The elder witch's hands trembled slightly as her crystal blue eyes betrayed thoughts of horror.

"Minerva, darling, have you tried using magic recently?"

The young witch narrowed her eyes at how the elder witch was talking to her, as if she'd known Minerva since she was very little. "I tried to close the door wandlessly but-"

"The typical spell didn't work _naturally_, did it?" Merrythought didn't wait for a confirmation, she turned on her heel, facing her colleague. Her voice was oddly soft, but it echoed hauntingly in Minerva's ears. "It seems you're right, Albus."

Dumbledore whispered several things to his bird before a flash of light erupted and the phoenix was gone.

"I knew it," he said calmly, though his eyes betrayed the fear within him. He slowly walked towards Professor Merrythought and Minerva. "The question is, what to do about it."

"What do you mean? What's going on Professor?" the young witch asked, though she got no answer.

"The only two solutions could _kill_ her. She's far too powerful, Albus!"

"You think I don't know that?" Dumbledore raised his voice. "You think I overestimated her abilities to this extent?"

Both Professors seemed to be locked in a duel over her life, making Minerva extremely uncomfortable, but most of all, furious. _I_'_m just a pawn to them and their schemes, they don_'_t care about me. They only care about my magic!_

"Well, you _are_ the one who insisted on her taking extra classes, and becoming the youngest Animagus ever, without even consulting her màthair!"

That one word captured the young witch's attention. _"Màthair?_ I didn't know you used the Gaelic version as well."

Professor Merrythought snapped her attention back to the girl. "Of course, didn't Izzy mention- oh never mind."

_"Izzy?"_ Minerva shook her head with irritable frustration. "No, Professor Merrythought, I don't have the patience anymore to deal with _never minds!_ How do you know my Màthair?"

"She is- _was_ -like a daughter to me," she said those last words with a tainted hatred that Minerva could only compare with Tradisi's outrage. The young witch felt the ground spinning under her feet, but she stood strong as her green eyes narrowed with venomous passion. It all made sense now.

"Did you accept an offer to have her killed as well?"

Professor Merrythought nearly stumbled back, clutching her heart as if she'd just witnessed a murder. "W-_what?"_

Minerva waved her hand behind her back, knowing her magic worked at the soft clicking sound of the doors unlocking. "You heard me, witch! I always wondered why Màthair took Tradisi's offer. Between you and that _witch's_ influence, her mind must be poisoned!"

Merrythought looked at the child with severely concerned and disturbed confusion. It struck her that something far more serious was warping into action as she began to recognize the young witch's increasingly alien behavior. Despite the rising terror in her mind, Professor Merrythought fought to keep her voice calm. "Minerva, your Màthair loves you, too deeply to _ever_ wish ill of you."

"You lie, she hates me! I heard her scream at Tradisi and accept the deed of my death! Don't tell me what I heard is wrong!"

"I am not saying anything of the sort. What I _am_ saying is that you need to calm yourself, Minerva."

_"Calm myself?"_ the young witch lashed out. "You're the witch who's destroyed any chance I had of actually having a Màthair who cares!"

"Miss McGonagall," Professor Dumbledore also picked up on the girl's strange behavior, usually she was relatively calm and collective of her feelings around her Professors, never so enraged with her words. He also noticed that she was now solely blaming Galatea for something she had previously stated was a combined effort with her grandmother. "Are you feeling all right, my dear?"

Minerva looked up at her beloved professor with scorn, as if she felt betrayed. "Y-you don't actually believe _her?_ You'd take _her_ word over mine? How can you possibly..." her words drifted for a second, before chaos enacted with a scream that shook both of the professor's senses. "NO!"

The young witch flicked her wrist and thrust her wand forward, blasting the doors open with a large gust of wind that swept up the tables and chairs in a flying attack upon her enemies, then ran. Albus barely had time to cast a shield before he was pummeled furniture. Galatea did the same, then fired a charm to stop the blast.

"She is delusional! Completely lost her sense of rationality!" Merrythought sputtered blatantly as they cleared a pathway for them to follow the girl.

"I know, I know!" Dumbledore muttered with annoyance at himself. "She never showed any signs of it when I first saw her, why is she acting so violently?"

Merrythought muttered something about the girl's family as they dashed down the hall, but Albus didn't catch it. The wizard abruptly stopped in his tracks and Galatea followed suite, bother catching their breath.

"Albus, if Minerva thinks we're both against her, we might need back up."

"Are you crazy? If we get anyone else involved, she might actually go over the edge and mentally incapacitated herself! She's in a _very_ fragile state, Galatea. No, I think it best if we handle this ourselves."

The elder witch sighed, her hair seemed more grey as events unfolded. "No, Albus, you have to do this. You have to convince her that you are conspiring against me or something, make her believe you're still her ally because it's our only chance of saving her!" Professor Merrythought waved her wand, emitting her Patronus to send a message to Isobel. "I'll be on the sidelines in my Animagus form, waiting. If I have to act to save her life I will, but I think it best that you carry on without me, old friend."

"Are you sure?"

"I promised her màthair that I'd look after Minerva, keep her safe. If I don't back down from my own maternal instinct then my vow will fail." The elder witch's pale crystal eyes snapped away from soft gloom of distant memories as she barked at him sternly. "Yes, I'm sure, Albus Dumbledore! Now get moving!"

Galatea began morphing into her grey wolf form as Dumbledore transformed into his red phoenix persona. Immediately, he skyrocketed out of the hallway's open arches, letting his eyes find the young girl's aura. If there was one thing he adored about being a phoenix, it was their ability to find people without needing to see them. He didn't have to wait long, his mind mentally attracted and magnetically connected to her for a reason he might never know. He could feel her fear, anguish, and determination to escape the panic inside herself. His heart began to race, if he didn't stop her soon...

_No, don_'_t think like that, she_'_ll pull through, she has too! __But for her sake, or the war?_

Albus shook his thoughts away, hating them with a passion. He despised setting her up like that, but nevertheless, he had, and if she didn't pull through this, he'd never forgive himself.

He plowed himself through the sky, soaring towards the Covered Bridge where Minerva was desperately running towards. Her shape was changing from her Animagus and Human form at dangerous speed, her panic grew as he draw closer and it was very concerning, as the wizard had no idea how he was going to handle this. The phoenix darted to the exit in a flash of red, spread his wings, suddenly slowing his descent and twisting his body around to face the disillusioned young witch as he transformed back. Albus silently realized her eyes were a malevolent red, yet she had not shed a tear, finding it very odd and personally disturbing to him.

"Why you, Professor? Of all the people, why did you defect?" she pointed her wand at him, her furious eyes were no longer the lively, captivating green. Instead, they were tinted with a blood red and sickly honey- the sight was almost enough to make him sick by how they ruined her. Albus forced himself not to look a them, but her nose, at least giving the appearance that he was looking directly at her.

"I will not fight you, Minerva," he dropped his wand, using her first name so that she may remember their lessons together and send a calming wave of emotion. He prayed that whatever sanity left inside her would catch on to it and make way for reason. However, the young witch did not, her hand quivered in resistance as she held the wand.

"I trusted you, Professor! I trusted you with my life and-"

"Minerva, stop. Please, think about it, my dear; if Professor Merrythought realized I knew the truth, that you were right, she would have contacted your mother and taken you away. You'd probably be sent to Beauxbatons Academy so you'd be branded as a liar yourself." Albus wondered if he might regret those words one later on, but at this very moment he didn't care. The world could be burning around them and he wouldn't care. His sole focus was helping his protegee, his promise, and most importantly his student.

To his relief, effort seemed to reach her. The young witch lowered her wand, dropping it to the ground and her lips trembled as she spoke words which seemed to momentarily destroy the rising dementia, "You were protecting me..."

"Yes, my dear, as I am right now." The wizard walked over to her slowly, clasping her hand around his. "Please, Minerva, let go and let me help you!" Minerva cried out in pain as his fingers brushed her marking. He didn't want to hurt her, but she needed to be reminded of what had started this all, to make her believe that something was indeed wrong,

"Stop!" she screamed, cringing in pain.

"Try to remember who you are. What happened before I left to my office? You were scared and nervous about the transformation."

"I... I remember, Professor. It's vague, but one thing I remember is the way you looked at me before you left your office. You were frightened of something."

Hope surged through him, praying no operation would be necessary, that she could fight the hold within herself. Albus placed a hand on the back of her shoulder. "Come, let us walk back so you can recover."

The young witch nodded as if automatic and they began walking in the opposite direction of which they came. He began to hear the padding of Galatea's Animagus behind him and decided to continue conversation so Miss McGonagall wouldn't hear.

"To answer your question, my dear; yes, I was- and still am -very frightened. In fact, I have never been so worried for a student's well being as I am today."

The young witch didn't look up at him when she spoke. "What is wrong with me, Sir?"

For a moment he debated whether or not to tell her, but in the end he decided it couldn't hurt. "The massive amount of magic you've been learning over the few years has proven much for your young body and mind to handle. I fear that, by becoming an Animagus so early in your life, you have overwhelmed yourself."

"Or have another strong ability working inside..."

Professor Dumbledore's went wide in shock. Part of him thought she might be spewing meaningless words, however, he got the impression she wasn't joking. He stopped walking and looked down at the young witch. "What do you mean?"

Instead of responding, the young witch began whimpering incoherently. She turned towards the bridge's railing and pressed a hand against it for support while the other on her head as if bracing for a migraine.

"Minerva?" Albus asked quietly. She shook her head, doubling over and fell to her knees, "Minerva, tell me what is wrong, let me help you!"

Miss McGonagall wrapped her arms around stomach, trying to shield them from an unknown infliction, but those whimpers turned into painful, gasping outcries.

"Please, I'll do anything, Professor... just make it go away..." she begged as Professor Dumbledore watched in horror as her form began changing, again and again while whispering a repeatedly broken message of; "Make it go away..."

"Minerva!" he didn't know why he yelled. He was scared for her, but his tone betrayed his growing attachment to the girl- whether it was for his dreams of her future, or as a mentor, he didn't know. He knelt to her side, resisting every instinct to wrap her close to him like the time she created the exploding feathers. "Stay with me, my dear, don't let it consume you!"

His voice alone seemed to help, if only momentarily, as she gripped to her human self.

_"Help me!"_ she begged, her voice barely carried over to his ears in whisper as her body trembled with the physical and mental strain of keeping her body in the same form, "I can feel _it _crawling in my mind and ripping defences placed _before_… I- I cannot hold on, Professor... I cannot!"

"Yes you can, Minerva, fight it! You are in control of yourself, not insanity!"

But it was too late. The young witch gave in began the ruthless changing of form again, physically tearing the girl apart with each transformation. Quickly, Albus summoned his wand into his hand, and flicked his wrist, forcing the anti-transformation charm upon the young witch. Thankfully it worked, but it also took most of her consciousness with her. He cautiously bent down to her, softly moving a lock of hair, testing her reflexes. When she didn't respond with but a blink, he gently pulled the limp witch into his arms.

The wizard heard a snapping bark from behind, not that of a dog, but a wolf, then saw the grey canine dashing from behind, running towards his office. As Albus gently cradled Miss McGonagall in his arms, the feelings of guilt overcame him. He'd overestimated the intake of magic Minerva would be able to learn, foolishly not adding in the amount she would extend herself in other classes, the stress of her family life, the war, and becoming the youngest Animagus in three centuries- not to mention being the youngest to crawl through the Unknown Door. He should have expected it, but he'd far overestimated her abilities and he'd never do such again if she lived through the terrible and horrifying ordeal.

_She_'_s just a girl, you fool!_ Albus reminded himself furiously. _Granted, a very powerful one, but power **always** comes at a price, you know that!_

The wizard could hear Galatea yelling for students to report to the Headmaster for detention. Under any other circumstances, Albus might have chuckled, knowing this was all an act to get them out of the hall. But now was not the time for laughter. Not with young McGonagall's life at risk.

The girl in his arms began to mumble and hands writhe with pain as she unconsciously grabbed hold of his robes.

"Come, Albus, hurry!" Galatea ushered him inside, stealing glances Minerva now and then. He could see the elder witch was suffering; having always kept watch on Miss McGonagall from afar, and knew she'd be feeling something of failure or fault. He empathized with her, although the wizard did not know why Galatea stayed distant, he suspected it had something to do with Isobel. Albus laid the girl down on the bed Professor Merrythought conjured, hushing her whimpers as he did.

The elder witch did not stay to watch while Dumbledore stabilized Miss McGonagall, fearing her emotions to overflow at any moment. _How could I_ ha_ve been so careless? Letting Albus train her as an Animagus without consulting Isobel was foolish and reckless!_

"Galatea?" she automatically turned to the office doors, then quickly realized it wasn't Professor Dumbledore who had spoken. Merrythought turned around, facing the office entrance. In front of her was the beautiful witch she'd comforted, cared for- and with time -loved. Isobel.

"Merlin's beard, Isobel, come here!"

Isobel smiled softly as she embraced the elder witch. "Galatea, you haven't changed much."

Galatea cupped the woman's cheeks as she did years ago. "Do you know what has happened to Minerva?"

Isobel nodded. "I can feel the inanity imposing on my daughter, and it scares me. Damn that _woman,_ even when she's dead she still causes me anguish!"

"What are you talking about, dear?"

"_She _did this! Tradisi! God, had I known what that _bitch_ had done to my daughter after I suppressed Minerva's astral..." Isobel's words trailed off with a shake of her head.

_"That_ wicked witch did this? To Minerva?"

The turn of the office door kept Isobel quiet of the matter, for the time being at least as both witches turned to face the auburn haired wizard.

"How is she, Albus?" Merrythought asked quickly while the wizard shut the door behind him.

"Minerva's stable for now. Her hands are tied down so she can't accidentally shatter, or explode something, though she's relatively calm at the moment."

"You really think she's that lost?"

Albus shrugged, unsure of what could really transpire. "Her mind is vastly sinking further into delusion, far quicker that I had feared."

Isobel stepped forward with a soft and gentle composer, but Albus could see something underneath that he didn't like. It was her eyes, they did not shine with fear as any worried mother should. They were cold and emotionless, making Albus briefly wonder what ever could cause her such distress.

"Please, Dumbledore, let me see my daughter. I can help her-"

"You're the reason she fled!" he barked with anger. Albus knew he shouldn't be showing such emotions at the moment, but he couldn't help himself. Minerva's to important, "She's got it in her head that you want her killed. Now, I don't know why she thinks such, but Minerva's mind is so fragile and delicate at the moment that I will not risk you driving her over the edge!"

Galatea step forward, "Albus, she knows what's wrong! This isn't as simple as we might have hoped!"

"Tradisi placed a block on her magic after Minerva had displayed incredible power at a very young age, without my knowledge."

The wizard narrowed his eyes, "I thought that woman died three years ago."

"Oh, she did," Isobel's deadly cold voice haunted the room, "but not without me knowing what she'd done."

"Fine, you may know what's wrong with her, but what makes you think Minerva will allow you to help? She has expressed deep anguish towards you, Isobel."

_"Because she is dying!_" the desperation in her voice convinced him, even if her eyes didn't. He had to trust her, for Minerva's sake alone.

"All right," he breathed, opening the door, "but if she gets worse, I'll have to force you to leave."

Isobel narrowed her eyes but agreed for the sake of the girl, and walked in with both professors following behind her. When she entered the room and got close enough to see her daughter's condition, the witch froze with a hand on her gaping mouth. Any mother would have acted the same, if not worse, upon seeing their child in such a state. Galatea placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, squeezed in comfort and exchanged a sad smile between them.

Minerva's markings had burned through her clothes, her body twitched slightly with every whimper. Her beautiful long hair was no longer in it's perfect stern ponytail and her once lively, beautiful skin had become sickly pale as beads of sweat trickled down her face. Her chest heaved an unnatural rhythm- that of slight panic and surrender. The young witch turned her head to the side, glaring upon the intruders with a malevolent intent the girl did not feel. Albus had to deliberately avert his gaze, unable to look into her eyes for more than a few seconds without feeling the sudden urge to vomit. The eyes that had captivated him three years ago, were gone, all signs of a soul were lost, completely unrecognizable with none of the usual dazzling green left.

Although Albus was shocked by her rapid decay, he dared not show it. He had no idea how rapid her magic had grown, but any frightened emotion he displayed could affect her badly.

"Miss McGonagall?" Albus spoke quietly as he made his way to her side. She didn't answer, just blinked. He swallowed. "Minerva?"

"Professor?" she croaked hoarsely as her glazed and opaque eyes unnaturally rolled towards his direction.

"I'm here, my dear, you needn't be afraid."

"Why would I be afraid, Sir?"

"Do you remember your markings burning when I touched your hand?"

Minerva flinched. "Bad times, _I_ don't want to remember! Avrenim doesn't want to think about it!"

Fear sank into his mind, she'd lost her sense of reality. "_Avrenim?_ Minerva, who are you talking about?"

The girl laughed. "She's me, professor. She knows everything, though has trouble speaking or performing wandless magic. Màthair knows who I am, don't you Màthair?" her voice was unsettling happy, as if she was- or had been -possessed.

Isobel took advantage of her daughter's obvious confusion, removing herself from Galatea's side and sat at the foot of the bed. "Minerva, sweetheart, listen to Màthair for a moment-"

"Minerva doesn't want to talk to you! She's furious, but _I_ am not. _I_ remember what that witch did to _us_. Minerva only remembers it in blurs, but _I_ know what happened! She would not let you help _us_, but she does not have a choice this time... if she wants to live."

Isobel's lip trembled, fighting the terror in her mind as her hand brushed away a lock of hair away from the girl's face. "Avrenim, h-how are you speaking?"

"Minerva could no cope with_ it_ anymore, she too far lost. So, _we_ switched places- after Professor stabilized _us._"

The wizard couldn't take it a moment longer, he left the room without a word from either witch. Galatea had an idea what was going through his mind, and knew it would be best to let be him be. Having seen the mentally insane and the young on their deathbed more times than he cared to count, it shouldn't have bothered him. However, only once had he seen them slammed together with his sister, Ariana, and how Minerva's condition was deteriorating, she was becoming so much like the little girl that plagued the back of his mind and it pained him far more than it should have.

Albus closed the door behind him, uttering a silencing charm before he left to give his mind some peace. He did not want to hear, or know, what would be conducted in that room just as long as Minerva McGonagall survived with her magic intact. The wizard walked towards his fiery magical familiar. Fawkes squawked a sad question, then tilted his head.

"No, I don't think your tears can help this time. They only work on the physical body, not the mind."

The bird huffed, flapped his wings and sang a song similar to the Merpeople and Sirens that they'd heard many years ago.

"No, I don't think that's her, Fawkes."

Again, the phoenix huffed, a bit more frustrated this time, and furiously nipped at the wizard's hand.

"Fawkes-!" But the phoenix squawked again, forcing Albus into silence, before he tilted his head and shed a few tears on the inflicted wound.

"Ah, I see…" Albus smiled softly then stroked the bird's feathers. "You want to heal her markings."

Fawkes did his little proud, gleeful dance of trotting around in a circle. His master laughed at the amusing sight, he always did.

"All right, but later, if they do not begin to disappear after a few minutes of the..." the wizard didn't know what to call it, 'procedure' sounded too harsh, but indeed it might be the right word, "...and maybe consulting her mother."

The bird hissed an angry cry, his eyes narrowed in hate.

"You don't like her either?" Albus huffed in surprise as he levitated a cracker into his hand, "I can't say I disagree with you on that. Isobel's an odd woman, her eyes are emotionless and calculating, and a master manipulator."

Fawkes sharply nodded in agreement, rarely did they dispute on people. He gave the bird the treat, then patted his head.

"But her daughter's lively green eyes are quite the contrary, aren't they my friend? You like her, I know you do." Dumbledore sighed heavily, remembering those same eyes that had become so plagued. "Do you think she's all we will need to the war needs to end? I don't want to put her out there if she..."

He couldn't say it, and Fawkes seemed to pick up on his distress. He squawked in slight disagreement, blinked twice, then continued to nibble at the cracker with great care not to get a single crumb out of place.

"Two people this time? What, you think _I_ need to be involved now?"

Fawkes gobbled the rest of his cracker before looking at his owner again. He gave the expression of deadly seriousness that Albus hated. Phoenixes were amazing creatures, sometimes able to see glimpses of the ever changing future. The inconvenience Tradisi had created was causing him great deal of pain and threatened to jeopardize their chances of winning the war. The message was clear; he needed to stay and continue his influence of overseeing Miss McGonagall's magical education, for his sake alone. He could _not_ get involved within the war, he simply couldn't.

The wizard sighed again, waved his hand for a piece of parchment and one of his self-writing quills.

_Dear Minister Evangeline Orpington,_

_I regret to inform you that I must withdraw my efforts into peace talk with Grindelwald. He is not listening and I do not believe he ever will. Total war is inevitable. Please take my previous advice and have the Ministry declare war on Grindelwald, I see it to be the best, and perhaps, only solution._

_Sincerely,  
>Albus Dumbledore<em>

The wizard waved his wand, encasing the piece of parchment in an envelope. He looked up at his beloved bird. "I think you know what needs to be done."

Fawkes squawked in agreement as he snapped the letter in his beak, then teleported out of the castle with a _**poof!**_

He waited there in his office, dwelling on memories of the girl, anything to keep his thoughts away from Ariana. Albus thought it odd that it was her eyes and smile was what he remembered most, of all things. Her smile always beamed with pride, while her brilliant green eyes burned with determination and bravery. Little did he realize that he'd give anything to see them in such pure form again. They seemed to be the only thing that kept him going during rough days.

* * *

><p>It'd been nearly an hour since she was rudely ushered away by Professor Merrythought. She, along with a few students, didn't go to the Great Hall. She had different reasons, of course, it wasn't as if she was avoiding punishment but because her dark haired sister had yet to be seen since their last hour. She tried communicating with Minerva, but her end was dead silent. Poppy found Malcom sitting with a few Slytherins, including the popular and pompous Tom Riddle.<p>

"Hey, it's a Gryffindor cat! Should we do something, Malfoy?"

"I wouldn't try it, Avery. I know several spells that can disfigure your wand arm forever."

All boys, except Riddle, took a step back. The third year Slytherin stared at her with a very slight devilish smirk. The worried witch ignored him.

"Malcom, come here for a moment." The boy frowned and almost shook his head before Poppy raised her voice. "I wasn't asking, you selfish boy! Come here, _now!"_

He nearly jumped at the sound of her demanding sharpness, surprised she could ever muster such defiance, and quickly scrambled to her side.

"Have you seen your sister, lately?"

"No, why would I? She's in Gryffindor!" he added snobbishly. "Besides, Min's been avoiding me lately."

Poppy rolled her eyes and cursed under her breath. "Very well, but do me a favor; if you see Min, will you tell her to contact me!"

"O-Okay." Malcom flashed a glance over his shoulder then lowered his voice. "Is everything all right? You seem rather on edge."

"You'd should be too. Min's been acting strange lately and now she's missing!" The young witch shook her head in annoyance. "Just do what I ask, please."

With that, Poppy walked away and opened her connection with Rola.

_Great,_ _Malcom doesn_'_t know where she is either._

_She_'_s not in the Library either. Augusta and I scoured it from top to bottom, even in the restriction section. Bloody hell, Poppy, I_'_m worried!_

_I_'_m with you on that. All right, no need to panic, yet. I_'_m going to find Mona, hopefully she_'_s in the Greenhouse. Maybe Min went to get Herbology help with our herby genius._

_Good idea- Oh, Gusta has an idea; She and I are going to search for her outside the castle with our brooms._

Poppy shook her head in partial amusement. _Just don_'_t get in trouble! What am I saying? Your middle name is trouble. Just don_'_t get expelled, Merlin forbid!_

_Righto, Madam Police, and good luck!_

Without hesitation, she raced to the Green House first, hoping and praying for the best, but neither witch could be found.

"Miss Pomfrey, you look dreadfully worried, can I help you?" Professor Berry kindly asked.

"Have you seen Pomona Sprout, Sir?"

"Actually, she left about five minutes ago to find Miss Pom- well, to find you! I believe she said we was heading to the Gryffindor Tower."

"Thank you, Professor!" Poppy tore through the halls, taking a few short cuts while she was at it. As she neared the portrait of the Fat Lady, she heard the Hufflepuff girl arguing with the painting rather furiously and shaking her finger angrily.

"No password, no entrance. You're not even a Gryffindor!"

"Merlin's beard, I know I'm not!" the chubby girl spat in frustration. "Please, Fat Lady, Minerva McGonagall's been hurt and I have to-"

"Hurt?" Poppy yelled in horror as she ran up to the Hufflepuff.

Pomona turned around, her startled brown eyes glistening with unadulterated fear. "Oh thank Goodness! I've been trying to find you!"

"Yes, I've heard, but what about Minerva, Mona? She's been missing for over an hour!"

"I saw Professor Dumbledore. He was carrying her like a child!" She put her trembling hands on her friend's shoulders and swallowed. "Poppy, she looked dead..."

A few years ago, it wouldn't take much for young Pomfrey to get scared, but Hogwarts and the war had changed her. For her to pale so quickly meant things had taken a turn for the worse.

"Don't you double over on me as well!" the Hufflepuff girl wrapped her shorts arm around her friend.

"I'm fine, Mona, just give me a minute." Poppy spoke after a few moments of regathering her thoughts then barked through her connection at her hawk-eyed sister, _Rola, get your flying gears over to the Transfiguration Department as fast as your broom can carry you! Tell Gusta to meet Mona at the Hospital wing!_

_You found her?_

_No, but Mona has seen her. I_'_ll explain everything later, get moving!_

Pomona raised a brow. "Communicating with Rola?"

Poppy nodded. "Mona, I need you meet Gusta at the hospital wing. Explain to her what you told me and ask if Madam Nurix has Min with her!"

The Gryffindor didn't wait for an answer, she just ran back down the ball as fast as she could.

"And just where are _you_ going?" the pudgy girl's words echoed after the worried witch.

"To get answers from Dumbledore!" she shouted over her shoulder.

* * *

><p>Professor Dumbledore stifled a yawn, refusing to let himself fall asleep from exhaustion, but his body had other ideas. As soon as he nearly drifted to sleep in his chair, the turn of his office doors snapped his groggy blue eyes awake.<p>

"Albus?" Professor Merrythought's soft voice rang in his ears like a harp. Dumbledore turned his head to the side, then heaved his body out the comfortable chair.

"What's happened?"

The witch closed the doors with a somber expression. "She will survive, Isobel worked quickly and effectively save the girl's magic. Minerva has been sent to St. Mungo's until tomorrow. She probably will not wake up for another three days and most of her memory of today's events won't exist because of the trauma."

The wizard noted a bit of a hard edge to the woman's voice as she explained the memory loss, but though nothing of it. He bobbed his head. "That may be a good thing."

The woman's eyes narrowed as she shuddered. "If only we could erase our own from this _accident..._ I will probably have another set of nightmares to deal with tonight."

Albus sighed in a somber agreement, then decided to take their conversation elsewhere. "I still don't understand how Tradisi Ross got involved with this."

Galatea's eyes narrowed in hate, an emotion she did not let many people see didn't see from her very often. "That bitch has done_ nothing_ but cause everyone she knows harm of some sort, myself included. Even in death, it seems she cannot leave well enough alone."

Albus almost asked what she meant by those words, but a sudden three knocks on his classroom door made both professors groaned to themselves, how they loathed intrusions. The wizard waved his hand, opening the doors, revealing two familiar Gryffindor girls.

"Professor Dumbledore!" they both cried in unison as they ran into the room.

"Miss Pomfrey, we you not you informed that Animagus Studies was cancelled today?" Merrythought said rather sternly.

"Yes, professor, I was, but this is important!"

"So important that you barge into your Head of House's classroom like a couple of mad cats?"

"Yes!" Rolanda hissed. "Minerva's gone missing!"

Dumbledore held up his hand, for silence. "Miss Pomfrey, Miss Hooch, please, your sister is not missing."

"Although she came bloody close!" Professor Merrythought huffed in frustration.

Professor Dumbledore held back an agreeing statement, the girls had enough to worry about. "Miss McGonagall has taken very ill and is with her mother at St. Mungo's right now."

The two girls shared a look of horror. Their minds racing at the possibility of Isobel 'finishing the job'. It'd be the perfect opportunity, no one could deny it.

_"St. Mungo's?"_

"With her_ mother?"_

Professor Merrythought almost hissed at Miss Hooch for her apparent dislike for Isobel, and if it weren't for Dumbledore being present she'd have given the girl a good lecture.

"Yes, she is. Miss Pomfrey, I believe we all owe you a great thanks. You were right to suspect something was seriously wrong indeed," Albus's voice grew grave, "as had she not shown me her markings when she did-"

"-things wouldn't have turned out so_ splendid,"_ Mrs McGonagall's voice, edged with an odd emotion that no one could entirely identify, came into the classroom from his office. Albus noted the two girls almost shuddered at Isobel's voice. He probably would have done the same in their place.

"It's a relief to know my daughter is in such good hands. Thank you, Poppy and Rolanda." The hazel eyed witch turned her attention to her former professors. "Minerva should be back to Hogwarts tomorrow. She's been ordered to spend the weekend at the Hospital Wing under Madam Nurix's constant supervision."

"She's alive?" Rolanda accidental breathed out loud, causing Poppy to elbow her for that.

_"Of course_ she's alive! Would I be in such a pleasant state if she weren't?

Immediately, Poppy dug her nails into her sister's wrist to keep her silent. "No, of course not, Mrs McGonagall. We're just worried about her. You see, Pomona Sprout caught a glimpse of Professor Dumbledore carrying Min, and she mistaken her for being dead."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised considering what she'd been through at that moment," Dumbledore spoke, preventing Isobel from pressing the matter further, "Mrs McGonagall, what did they say about visitors?"

"St. Mungo's doesn't want anyone seeing her while she's under their supervision. They want her to awaken at the Hospital Wing to prevent further confusion."

"Very well," Albus sighed softly, then directed his voice towards his Gryffindor girls, "I'll make sure you two, Miss Louise and Miss Sprout have first clearance to see her when she arrives, but I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do. Why don't you go inform the other two girls, hmm?"

Poppy sighed but nodded, then muttered, "Yes Professor, thank you," before dragging Rolanda out of the room before she could utter another word. As they quickly made their way to the Hospital Wing, the hawk-eyed witch simply couldn't hold back her tongue anymore.

"Do you think Isobel was planning to finish_ it?_"

The girls skidded around a corner, nearly knocking into Peeves, but didn't stop their mad dash.

"I don't know." Poppy said in minor defeat. "It doesn't seem like it, maybe she was just alerted by Dumbledore and Merrythought that Min was taken to St. Mungo's, but it didn't seem like it."

"Well, I for one I don't like that Isobel was with her alone and completely vulnerable. If Min were conscious she'd have freaked, and rightfully so!"

"Poppy!" their Hufflepuff girl shouted from the hall as all four girls closed the gap between each other. "Minerva's been taken to St. Mungo's!"

"So we've been told." Poppy narrowed her eyes. "Did Madam Nurix say why?"

Pomona bit her lip. "She said something about a Overload-"

"-but that doesn't make sense," Augusta insisted. "She's too young!"

Poppy's face paled again. She spoke one phrase, "Min's life never make sense!" then ran into the hospital.

"Well, we might as well stay here. She's be better on her own when it comes to getting answers." Rolanda smirked with slight amusement, but no more considering the circumstances.

Indeed she was with her knowledge of healing magic alone surpassed most in the school. When she got into the Hospital, it wasn't hard to find Madam Nurix even when in her office. Her door was open, allowing anyone to see the nurse who came in.

"Madam Nurix?" Poppy called as she walked towards one of her idols.

"Goodness knows how many times I've heard that name being called today," she exclaimed with a bit of a frustrated chuckle. "Come in, dear."

Poppy had gotten to know the nurse fairly well over the last few years, requesting help learning spells or asking to borrow a book nearly always resulted in a conversation about some spell or another, which then sparked some tea time. Eventually, she earned the title of 'dear' when they were together. Something Poppy treasured just as much as her sisters and friends.

"Sorry, Helena."

"It's quite all right, dear." She gave her a warm, though exhausted smile and put down her spectacles. "I expect you're here to learn about your sister?"

"Pomona said you told her Min suffered an Overload, but how is that even possible, Helena? She's far too young! I know Min's not exactly the typical witch, but this..." she buried her head in her hands, her bronze hair which was usually in a long braid, was now a complete mess. The young witch sighed. "I just don't know what to think."

The Matron nodded her head with slow grace. "Sometimes magic creates in abnormal effects, and Miss McGonagall suffered such. I don't have all the answers, dear. Goodness knows I wish I did. I'd stop any child from dying if I could." Poppy nodded in slight defeat, then began to walk away when Helena spoke again, "Poppy?"

The young witch turned around, but didn't have to say anything. Helena's outstretched arms offered her everything she needed at that point and she embraced her mentor with relieving gratitude.

"You've had a quite a fright, haven't you?" the woman asked in quiet, soothing tones. "Don't you fret anymore then. Your sister will make a full recovery, if I understand, except for a possibility of a few magic problems, she should be just fine."

"Magic problems? Oh dear, Min's going to have a fit if that's true!"

"Indeed." The woman kissed the top of her hair. "Now, I hate to spoil the moment, but you had best be off. Dinner will be served soon."

The young witch looked away from her mentor's kind eyes. "I'm not hungry."

Madam Nurix sighed. "Would it help if I asked you if you'd like to begin my apprentice program this year? You can look after McGonagall when she comes back, and gain experience for your future during the rest of your years here."

Poppy blinked in amazement. "I don't know what to say, Helena, thank you! Thank you so much!"

The woman chuckled. "I thought it might cheer you up a bit. Now go on, gather your friends and get to dinner."

* * *

><p><strong>So, I've finally revealed that Dumbledore (and inadvertently Fawkes) have been planning Minerva's future... eek! And it's been high time to have the girls interact more with the story, so, this chapter was partially and excuse for that, haha!<strong>

**If you're confused about Isobel's words sometimes, it's OKAY. They're supposed to be a bit confusing and ALL will be revealed with time, I promise!**

**~LinK**


	14. Changes to the Guard

_**It's the story of your life, you're tearing out the page**_

_**New chapter on underway**_

_**The story of your life, you live it every day**_

_**You can run, you run**_

_**But you won't get away**_

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><p><strong>AN: **New headline lyrics from "Story of Your Life" by Five for Fighting, as it's time for a change. The words of that Siren are long gone from Minerva's mind by now, but they'll be back...

~Thank you everyone who reviewed last chapter. You wonderful people made my smile until the end of the day! To be quite honest, I was worried how readers would react to the update, but you all have welcomed it and loved it, and I'm so very pleased that you did!

~**The new teaser poster for "Chapter 15 - Piertotum Locomotor" is up on my website under "Gallery"**. Fair warning; you'll be mad at me for looking at the picture when you realize you'll have to wait two more weeks for the chapter! You have permission to yell and hex me all you want ;) The website is located on my profile.

Anywho, let's carry on shall we?

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><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13 - Changes to the Guard<strong>

**September 8th, 1940:**

The when the young witch awoke, she couldn't remember anything after Merrythought emerged from Dumbledore's office, nor could she remember why she was in the hospital wing. Her first thought was if someone had seen her markings, but when she lifted her hand, another hand squeezed it in place.

"Hey you," a familiar honey glazed voice spoke softly. "It's good to see you awake."

The dark haired witch turned her head to the side, glancing at her sister as she pulled herself up, "Poppy? What are you doing here?"

"Looking after you while Madam Nurix goes for breakfast." Her voice grew more somber and she bit her lip. "Merlin's beard, Min, do you know how much you scared us?"

Minerva shook her head and furrowed her brows. "What do you mean? Poppy, why am I here? What happened?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"After Potions class you demanded that I see Professor Dumbledore because of my markings." Minerva looked at her hand and grimaced. "They still haven't left, I see."

"No, that couldn't be fixed. I'm sorry."

The dark haired witch shrugged like it was no big deal, even though both witches knew it was very close to being her Boggart.

"When I went into his classroom I showed them to Dumbledore. He examined them, and when his fingers brushed against the bloody things, a shooting pain emitted throughout my body." She shivered. "After that he fled into his office, contacted Professor Merrythought and she started asking me questions." Finding that she'd hit a roadblock, she narrowed her eyes and frowned. "I can't remember anything else after that though."

"It's alright Min, that was to be expected. Madam Nurix should be back soon. We'll get you a few potions administered and diagnostic spells to make sure nothing else is wrong, though after your ordeal, I highly doubt there could be anything too threatening. St. Mungo's released you with confidence of your recovery."

"_St. Mungo_'_s?_ How long was I there? What's today?"

Poppy sighed, her eyes softened as she immediately embraced her sister. "Relax, dear sister. It's Sunday-"

"_Sunday?_"

"Yes, Sunday, now stop worrying! You'll have plenty of time to do your homework later, though I'm sure you've already finished it. Really, Min, you need to take things easy for a while."

The dark haired witch's eyes narrowed. "You're avoiding to tell me what happened."

Poppy sighed, patting her sister's hand gently.

"Yeah, I am." She bit her lip but nodded anyway. "Alright, I'll tell you. Your magic experienced an overload. It'd been building in your system for a while now, possibly since you became an Animagus."

Minerva looked at her sister with amusing disbelief. "And now you're talking nonsense. Overloads don't occur unless someone has maxed out their magic abilities. A witch or wizard has to be _at least_ fifty!"

The rust haired witch just laughed, though it wasn't in humor, her eyes proved that. "Gods, Min, if you only knew how many times I've questioned your diagnosis myself! It's so strange, and almost unheard of, but it has happened before. I did some research on it while you were comatose and there's at least five witches and wizards on record, each of them died within the first two hours of physical and mental decay." Minerva shuddered and Poppy immediately squeezed her hand in comfort. "You are beyond lucky that Dumbledore and Merrythought recognized the signs before the dementia and magical insanity could snap your physical functions, although I hear it was very close to breaking you mentally."

The dark haired witch shook her head in somber disbelief, trying to wrap her head around the facts. "Bloody hell."

"Indeed!" A reckless and feminine voice appeared from the back of the room. Both girls turned their heads, seeing Rolanda, Pomona and August rushing to the bed. "London's been bombed!"

* * *

><p>Word spread quickly; the combined force of the Nazi Luftwaffe and the Untergang's broom bombings had created enough hysteria throughout the school, causing all rumors about Minerva's well being to vanish, unlike her markings. By lunchtime, the dark haired witch was released by Madam Nurix and allowed to join her friends in the Great Hall for lunch. She took precautions with her markings, wearing her Hogwarts robe so that her hands were covered most of the time. But before the meal began, however, Headmaster Dippet gave a speech addressing the recent events.<p>

"Ladies and gentlemen, my students, last night London was attacked by both Muggle and Wizard means. We grieve for those lost in the raid, but now is not the time to let our emotions get the better of us. The Nazi's and Untergang plan to continue their strikes as a means of breaking the country's will, but they will not succeed. This morning, I spoke to Minister Orpington. She has asked for Hogwarts and Hogsmeade to become a center of refuge and schooling for the pre-magic school children as a means of keeping them safe, and we have accepted. During the next few days, every child on our list, Muggle-born or otherwise, will be arriving and living at Hogsmeade. Prefects, your Heads of House will be appointing three additional members per year as your duties will now be expanding to patrol there and you will need a staff member escort when reporting to your post.

"Now, to the changes being done here: Professor Merrythought, Professor Slughorn and Professor Dumbledore are re-starting the Dueling club in the Room of Requirement. Students who wish to learn how to protect themselves during this time of grave uncertainty, may do so starting next weekend. Also, Hogwarts will not be sending any student home during the Holidays, it is simply to dangerous. That being said, for the first time in Hogwart's History, we will be housing students during the summer, and to assure you, it will not be acting as summer school. More details will be released of this later in the year.

"One last thing before you are release to eat, the Daily Prophet will be cancelled and unable to enter the ground of Hogwarts. If there is something important enough that it needs to be addressed, either I or a member of the teaching staff will inform you. That is all."

Minerva could not help but smile after Dippet's speech for several reasons: First, Cayden would be coming to Hogsmeade. Second, she now had an excuse not to return to the Manor during the Holidays. Third, the dueling club gave her an excuse to fight the Slytherin boys. Despite her day getting off on a fuzzy start, it couldn't get any better now.

"All right," Poppy interrupted the silence as the group at their food, "I've got some news to tell you all."

"What about?" Pomona asked while partially chewing and writing notes down for her Transfiguration quiz tomorrow. If there was one thing about lunch, it was being able to sit wherever they liked, even in different houses tables.

"Well, Madam Nurix has offered me to being her apprenticeship program!"

"Poppy, that wonderful!"

"Congratulations!"

The rust haired girl blushed. "But, it also means I have to end Animagus Studies."

Minerva could see the problem already. "Oh, Poppy, Dumbledore will be thrilled that you've been selected! Everyone knows you have a knack for healing spells and have a future in that department."

"Especially with the war," Xavier spoke up, sitting besides Rolanda. "Healers are in high demand these days."

"Speaking of the war," Augusta narrowed her eyes, "what do you all think about the Dueling Club? Should we attend?"

"Absolutely, Gusta," Minerva insisted. "You heard what the Headmaster said, this is a time of grave uncertainly. Knowing how to defend ourselves in duels is imperative."

"Even if you don't want to be in the war," Pomona said quietly, "you may find yourselves thrust into it without warning, Gusta."

"Well then, is it settled?" Poppy asked with far more excitement than the others had. "We'll all attend the dueling club?"

"And miss out on an opportunity to kick Slytherin's arse? Never!" Rolanda grabbed her drink and held it up. "Down with Slytherin!"

**September 10th, 1940:**

Professor Dumbledore took charge over getting Hogsmeade settled for the incoming children, and thus had not been given the chance to speak with Minerva beforehand. That morning, Minerva got a letter from her father informing her that Cayden was on his way to Hogsmeade and should be there by noon. She nearly jumped with excitement and skipped lunch to help her little brother settle in.

Upon reaching Hogsmeade in her Animagus form, she quickly noted the changes done to the place. It was no longer a small town of bustling miscreants. The Three Broomsticks, Hog's Head, Honeydukes, and Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop had all been transformed into houses for the children. The Tea Shop housed children three and under, Honeydukes kept those of ages four to six, while Hog's Head and Three Broomsticks took everyone else. Charms were made to extend the rooms, with the Ministry's approval of course. Tomes and Scrolls book shop turned into the History and Reading classrooms, Spintwitches was converted for the Magic Control and Theory classes, Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop held Writing and Math, and Zonko's Joke Shop was now the study hall. How effective that would be, Minerva wasn't sure.

She found Cayden slowly dragging his suitcase towards Tomes and Scrolls as if he was rather confused. His big green eyes looking at a map with frustration.

"This thing doesn't tell me anything!" he yelled, stomping his feet to the ground, tore the map in half and threw it to the ground. Minerva transformed back into her original form and summoned the paper to her hands and laughed.

"My, you've developed a temper, Cayden!" The little boy turned around with wide eyes.

"Minvey!" He let go of his suitcase, letting it drop to the floor, and rushed into his sister's arms. He continued ranting, although his words were muffled in her clothes. "I'm so happy you're here! I don't like this place! Why did I have to leave the Manor? I don't understand!"

Minerva couldn't help it, a broad smile stuck on her lips. "My dear, darling brother, you're here because of the war. Didn't Màthair tell you?"

The boy shook his head as he looked up at her, muttering a negative noise, "Màthair's been rather quiet since she got back from Hogwarts a few days ago."

The witch froze for a moment. "Màthair was at _Hogwarts?"_

"Yeah, don't you remember? She said she visited you."

Minerva narrowed her emerald eyes. That _hadn't_ happened. Not at all.

"Did she visit Malcom as well?" To her surprise, Cayden shook his head. "Interesting, well, how about we figure out where you're supposed to be?"

"Yes please!" He dug out a small piece of parchment from his pocket. "I'm supposed to be at Tree Broomsticks, but I can't find it!"

Forgetting about her mother, she smirked. "_Three_ Broomsticks, Cayd."

The little boy blinked several times then blushed in embarrassment. "Oh, I must have heard Dumble-man wrong."

"That's _Professor Dumbledore,_ Cayd, and yes, I believe you did. There's no _Tree_ Broomsticks here. Come on, I'll show you the way." The witch took out her wand and cast a Levitation Charm on it, having been advised by Madam Nurix to not use wandless magic for a while. She took the precautions seriously, not wanting to utterly damage her abilities forever.

"I can do that! I can do that, Minvey! I've been practicing all summer!"

"Have you now? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I know you can't use magic when you're home. I didn't want to make you mad."

She shook her head with a smile, he reminded her so much of herself at his age, and she absolutely adored it. "Well then, why don't you show me?"

The boy pointed at a twig on the ground and furrowed his brows. Moments later, the twig was lifted from the ground and was violently tossed onto the roof of Hog's Head.

"Hey!" barked a man whose voice and auburn beard nearly matched Professor Dumbledore's. "Watch where yer throwing things!"

"Sorry!" Cayden said, quickly tugging at Minerva's sleeve and ran with laughter.

"Bloody kids," the man grumbled as both siblings fled. Out of breath and energy, Minerva stopped running for a moment. She placed her hands on her knees and took a few deep breathes.

"Miss McGonagall," a deep wise voice spoke to her left, "what are you doing here?"

She didn't have to guess who he was, having heard his familiar. The witch turned her head, facing the Transfiguration professor and opened her mouth to explain, but her overexcited brother beat her to it.

"She's with me!" He hugged at her waist with protective intent and Dumbledore laughed, his sapphire eyes twinkling in response.

"Came to help your brother out, I see. Very well, Miss McGonagall, I'll let this one slide. Next time, However, make sure you have an escort, alright?"

"Yes, sir, I will."

The professor smiled. "Good. I'll wait for you by the oak tree to take you back in fifteen minutes."

"I'll be there. Thank you, Sir."

"Come on, Minvey! I see Three Broomsticks!" Cayden tugged her her arm, dragging her away from the auburn haired wizard. "By Prof'sser Dumbledore!"

The witch heard the wizard chuckle as she was forced into the former, rather friendly, pub. The bell chimed melodiously a few times as the door closed behind them.

"Oi!" gasped Madam Rominara as she cradled her infant daughter, Rosmerta. "Yer late! Come along, come along, down stairs yeh go!"

It was common knowledge that the Rominara's husband had been killed a month before their daughter was born, and was likely the reason she agreed to Hogsmeade being used as a shelter school. Either way, she was compensated and it guaranteed her daughter's safety even more.

"Yes, Madam," Minerva said. "Follow me, Cayd." Her little brother obeyed, following closely behind his sister as his truck allowed him.

"How old are yeh, boy?"

"Eight, Ma'am," he said politely.

"And yer name?"

"Cayden McGonagall, Ma'am."

The woman's brows shot up as she quickled turned her head around to face the two siblings. "Oi, I should have recognized yeh! Yer Izzy's children, yes?"

Minerva pursed her lips. "You knew Màthair?"

Rominara snorted in laughter. "Yus, yer definitely Izzy's. I see she's still adamant about that dying language!"

When they reached the end of the stairs, well over thirty children were settling their baggage down, or jumping around to claim top or bottom bunks. The noise was nearly deafening, and little Rosmerta began the cry. Quickly, Minerva pulled out her wand.

"_Silencio!_" and the children were silent. They tried to make a sound, but it was useless.

Madam Rominara smirked. "Thank you, Miss McGonagall. Children, I know yer excited, but yer all far too loud. Find yerselves a bunk and sit down!"

The dark haired witch took note that Rominara indeed meant for Cayden to find one as well and gave him a hug. "Go on. I'll visit you again over the weekend, alright?"

"Alright, Minvey," he kissed her cheek, then ran off to find a bunk.

Rominara clicked her tongue. "A sweet boy, he is, much like his mother."

Minerva rolled her eyes, unable to fathom Isobel acting like such, then walked up stairs. She left the pub hearing Rominara barking orders for the children to never get so loud again, stating when curfew was and that all house-elves were to be treated with respect.

The witch made her way to the oak tree, very well aware she was several minutes early. Still, Professor Dumbledore was there, greeting her with twinkling eyes and his phoenix on a shoulder.

"Hello again, Miss McGonagall. Shall return to the castle?"

"Yes, Sir." She started walking, but when she noticed Dumbledore that wasn't following her, she turned around. "Sir?"

He chuckled. "I didn't say walk, did I?"

The phoenix uttered a song of amusement, then swooped into the sky. Minerva cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Professor, how else are we going to get to Hogwarts? We can't Apparate from here."

Dumbledore grinned, placing a hand on her shoulder while the other above his head. "We, my dear, will teleport."

The witch's green eyes sparkled in awe as the phoenix soared towards them. In a flash of brilliant light, they were gone, from Hogsmeade and in the Transfiguration classroom.

Minerva had to clear her throat in order to talk, her heart was fluttering madly. "Sir, that was amazing! Spectacularly wonderful!"

The bird floated down to a table, rubbed his head against her hand, and began to coo. The witch stroked his head gently in return, when suddenly Fawkes bit down on her robe sleeve and tossed it back, exposing the crimson markings.

"Fawkes!" she frowned at the bird, but it held her hand with his talons.

"Don't struggle, McGonagall, he wants to help you."

"_Help?_ Help with what?" her eyes instantly went wide, feeling several moist drops land on her emblems. "Oh, his tears." A tingling sensation surrounded her body, and as the crimson marking faded, she knew the others did as well. She looked upon the bird with a sad, happy joy within her eyes. She might have tears up if she were able. "I... I don't know what to say. How did you know?"

Although he knew she was speaking to Fawkes, Dumbledore spoke up. "During your..._ incident,_ he got a glance at them and continued to pester me until I would allow him to do so."

The bird pranced around in glee, hopped on her shoulder and let out a song of approval which Minerva giggled at.

"Well now, it seems that you have a new friend," the Professor said as Fawkes jumped off her shoulder with weightless grace and soared around the room while the bell, signalling lunch was over, range.

**September 14th, 1940:**

There were nearly fifty students who attended the first dueling club's meeting, and the enchanted Room of Requirement expanded it's area with each student's arrival. The room was a relic of glory itself. Everything that they needed was provided, including a dueling ring and platform, appeared from non-being instantly.

"Welcome everyone, to the Dueling club!" Professor Slughorn addressed the crowd. "Today we will be going over the rules and giving a few demonstrations. first years will be observing and taught the fundamentals only-" a groan echoed in the crowd.

"Silence!" Professor Merrythought barked, her stern eyes glaring at any student who dare challenged her orders. The woman had been seemingly, and deliberately, avoiding Minerva since her incident, not that it really bothered her though. It was just a bit odd. From what Minerva remembered, the look in Professor Merrythought's eyes held more emotion than anyone had seen in no doubt several decades.

Slughorn continued after clearing his throat. "Second and third Year's spells will be very restricted- nothing harmful and always supervised. We don't want any accidents taking out some unfortunate student's limbs, do we?"

There was a quiet snicker, but Merrythought caught wind of it and shouted orders. "Mr Black, out!"

"But I-"

"OUT! And do not bother coming back, or I will personally give you a lesson on hexing you'll never forget!"

Minerva looked at Rolanda and both witches had to suppress their laughter.

"Fourth and fifth Years will have less restrictions on hexes and jinxes, but will always be supervised," Professor Dumbledore said. "Sixth and seventh years will have no restrictions, except for anything fatal or extremely harmful, and will be supervised during duels only."

"That being said, anyone who attempts to intentionally harm a student will be expelled from the club," Slughorn added, glaring at his own students whom smirked devilishly.

"First through third, follow me." Merrythought waved them to her as she walked to the left, the room expanding as she did.

"Fourth and fifth, with me," Dumbledore spoke up, then walked over to the right where the dueling ring was present. Xavier said good bye to the group, being a sixth year, as the girls followed their Transfiguration professor.

"Oi, this is so exciting!" Rolanda was bouncing on her toes with anticipation.

"I wonder if we'll be able to duel today?" Augusta asked, her eyes on the glowing circle.

"Certainly not!" Poppy insisted. "We'll get a demonstration then probably given a list of spells we can use."

Pomona smirked, pointing towards the dueling statues. "Oh I wouldn't be so sure about that, Poppy. I think Professor Dumbledore has every intent of starting today."

Poppy's mouth dropped, ensuring mass laughter from the group, not even Minerva could deny the hilarity.

"Hey, Min, will you volunteer for the first duel if we get the chance?"

The dark haired witch pursed her lips with a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. "Only if a Slytherin, or a stuck up Ravenclaw decides to shove their hand in the air, Gusta."

"Yes!" Rolanda pumped her hands into the air, then gave a high five to the blond haired witch, although when Dumbledore cleared his throat she turned red and her head sank down a few inches like a turtle.

"Dueling is considered an art, one that has standards of perfection, but can also be considered a sport, with the ability of victory or defeat. Now, when one is challenged to a duel, there are always rules of engagement. First, the gain or loss must be stated, death or disarmed- here, death will _never_ be an option. Then you will choose your second, who will take over for you if you fall. Thirdly, you bow and point your wand at each other. At the count of three, you may fire." The Professor looked at each student with a stern gaze. "Those who do not comply with these rules, will be expelled. Any questions?"

When no one spoke, he waved his hand, giving each student a sheet of parchment with a list of spells.

"These are the spells you are allowed to use. If you use any others, depending on the severity of the spell, expulsion will be an option."

Minerva raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss McGonagall?"

"Is wandless or wordless magic allowed in the duels here?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "If you know them, most definitely. We are here to prepare you for the future, one where wandless and wordless magic is used by many wizards these days."

The dark haired witch felt a grin tug at her lips, but she hid it well- even when Rolanda did some sort of silent gleeful jig. _You are going to rock this!_

_Oh hush, will you?_ Minerva smirked. _We've never dueled before, who knows, I could be terrible at it._

"Could I have two volunteers for a demonstration?"

Instantly, Minerva's hand was up, and so was Malfoy's.

"Miss McGonagall," a groan issued from the crowd, "please select your second."

"Rolanda Hooch."

_I love you! I absolutely love you!_ The excited witch exclaimed through their connection, enough that even Poppy had to giggle.

"Mr Malfoy, select your second as well."

"Tavin Lestrange."

"Very well, all candidates please enter the circle."

Now, a cheer erupted from the students, all cheering for their selected duelist. Minerva emptied her mind, as she did before every Quidditch game, to tune out the shouting as she and Rolanda walked up to the circle. The dark haired witch had her wand out, her left hand ready with a plan. Malfoy's dark grey eyes hinted with malevolent intent, as he mouthed the words, _"My turn for revenge"._ She just smirked as he tossed his robe off. The Slytherin girls cooed and gawked at him, especially when he winked in their direction.

"First candidates, step in the ring"

The moment Minerva placed her two feet inside the circle, a blue flame erupted from the circle, causing everyone but the duelists to jump.

"Don't worry, the flames only cause a minor sting for opponents to think twice about abandoning their fight," Dumbledore informed the crowd. "Duelists; wands ready, and bow."

Minerva held her wand to the side of her face, placed it at her side, then bowed in one graceful motion as her opponent did the same.

"Begin on the count of three."

Malfoy pointed his wand at the witch. His menacing eyes glaring at her with a smirk on his face didn't affect her like he wished. She kept a straight, no nonsense expression, but didn't raise her wand.

"One."

The witch began twirling her fingers from under her robe's sleeves, gaining momentum for when she needed it.

"Better raise that wand, McGonagall. You're going to need it," the platinum blond boy sneered like the snake he was.

"Two."

"Min, _what are you doing?_" Rolanda hissed.

The witch barely raised her wand, not enough for her opponent to notice.

"Three!"

"_Flipend-"_

Minerva blocked the jinx with a flick of her wand catching him off guard, then immediately tugged hard at his shoes with her left hand. Malfoy fell backwards, his hand crossing the line. Instantly, a cowardice howling came from the arrogant Slytherin boy.

"What did you do to me? My hand's on fire!"

"Now, now, Malfoy," the witch said with slight amusement in her voice, "It's only a minor sting. Surely your father taught you to ignore minor nuisances, though it's obvious he didn't teach you how to duel. Let me give you a few tips. Lesson one, never assume your opponent isn't planning a strategy.

A cheering erupted from the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, but she didn't bask in it. The duel wasn't over.

Malfoy got to his feet. "You'll pay for that. _Expellimelius!"_

Before she could react, bright, hot orange flames surrounded Minerva, and although it was a forbidden spell, Dumbledore didn't react, knowing his prized student would handle the situation. Indeed she did. with a flick of her wand, she transfigured the ring of fire into a rope that tied itself around Malfoy's hands.

"Second, never wait for your opponent to react, and thirdly, never lose your wand. _Expelliarmus!"_

The boy's wand flew from the dueling arena with an explosion of cheers and boos, it didn't matter to Minerva. The fame and glory wasn't for her. With a wave of his hand, Professor Dumbledore vanished the ropes around Malfoy and disengaged the blue fire.

"Well done, McGonagall, you demonstration was most excellent, ten points to Gryffindor! As for you, Malfoy, thirty points from Slytherin for your use of an unauthorized spell." The Slytherin boy stormed out of the circle, absolutely fuming. "Lestrange, you're up to defend Malfoy's honor."

Many in the crowd snickered or giggled at Dumbledore's comment with grins on their faces as Minerva conducted the similar routine as before; Wand, bow, count to three- except she attacked first.

"_Avis!" _Several birds conjured from her wand, flying directly at the Slytherin boy. He handled it calmly, unlike Malfoy who was in it for a show, by transfiguring the birds into snakes. They plopped to the ground and immediately began slithering their way towards the Gryffindor. But Minerva didn't bother with them like he anticipated, instead she sent a stunning spell at her opponent. When Lestrange fell to the ground, unconscious, she vanished the snakes, then muttered the disarming spell. The fight only lasted about three seconds.

An applause was conducted and Minerva bowed a bit awkwardly before she exited the circle.

"Again, well done. As you can see, students, dueling is fast paced. You have to be quick on your toes, never let the opponent see your tactic and exploit it..."

Minerva lost her professor's words as Rolanda gave her a giant hug. "You were fantastic! I knew you'd beat them!"

The dark haired witch shrugged as they made their way back to the group. "Malfoy was a joke, but Lestrange was an actual opponent."

"True enough, but either way, you get to help me and the girls figure out what we're doing!"

"Just don't make me do charms!" Augusta whined as the two rejoined the group. "Last time I tried to stun something, I blew up that poor bird!" The girls had to muffled their laughter, remembering the incident, and the charm-challenged girl continued to pout. "It's not funny!"

* * *

><p><strong>Believe it or not, 'teleport' doesn't exist in the English thesaurus, thought it does in the dictionary... come to think of it, what other word could you use? <em>Poof?<em> Ha!**

**Just to clarify, Honeydukes will still be selling their candies. They've got a mob of kids running around, there's no way they'd be allowed to stop selling! Those little magical fiends would find a way to get candy one way or another... I didn't put this in as it isn't entirely important to the story, even though a hungry Em expressed her opinion from a fan's point of view as otherwise.**

**Ta-ta my dear readers!  
>~LinK<strong>


	15. Sustaining Ground

_**It's the story of your life, you're tearing out the page**_

_**New chapter on underway**_

_**The story of your life, you live it every day**_

_**You can run, you run**_

_**But you won't get away**_

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><p><strong>AN:**

~Spell-lore: There truly aren't enough spells with incantations that we know about. I scour the HP Wiki for spells, yet I usually can never find what I want. If you haven't noticed by now, I've made up a few spells of my own. I usually do it by translating a few words into Latin and combining them, or adding some wacky ending.

~**MEAR** is an acronym that stands for "Magical European Allies Resistance". They are the comparison of the Allies our "Muggle" history of WWII.

* * *

><p><em><strong>OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!<strong>_

_**J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14 - Sustaining Ground<strong>

**September 19th, 1940:**

Minerva enter the Transfiguration classroom with a sigh. Although she was ecstatic that Poppy was now Madam Nurix's apprentice, she was finally coming to full realization that she had no one, except Professor Dumbledore, that she knew.

She sat down at her desk, and began taking out her books when she heard the light pattern of footsteps crossing the stone floor. The witch looked up and nearly cursed upon seeing Tom Riddle walking towards her. His dark eyes seemed soulless, combined with his nearly expressionless mask, he gave her an impression that there was something very wrong with the boy.

"Is this seat taken?" he pointed to the desk behind her as he spoke with a clear, softly demanding voice she hated.

"No," she said curtly and began to flip in her book for notes.

"You're Malcom's sister, aren't you?"

Minerva ignored him, she knew he was just trying to stir conversation. The memory of him taunting a Muggle-born and the quiet half-giant wizard, Hagrid, made her blood boil.

"No need to shove me off, Minerva, I'm just trying to be friendly."

The way he said her Christian name made the grip on her quip tighten. Still, she refused to give him attention, began to take notes she didn't need and blocked his voice from her mind. During the lesson, Riddle said something about 'Mudbloods' and Professor Dumbledore gave him a look that Minerva will never forget. She nearly laughed because it made Riddle squirm like the worm he was.

Throughout the class, Minerva was adamant about researching the Unknown Door. Unfortunately, she didn't get much time to talk to him, as the first lesson was almost always devoted to the Apprentices. However, it didn't stop her from advancing her desire. The seventh year Advanced Ravenclaw, Richard McRae, tapped her on the shoulder and motioned for her to follow him into Dumbledore's office.

"W-what? You're crazy! We can't go in there without him-"

"Oh hush, you're making a scene. He allows us Advanced students to get books from his office and study in there while he's devoted to the Apprentices. As long as we keep the door open, Dumbledore doesn't mind."

"Honestly, McRae, if you're lying to me and we get in trouble, I'll hex you 'till next week. Mark my words."

Richard shrugged while muttering, "You won't need to," and walked into the office, followed by a rather cautious dark haired witch who made sure not to close the door. The Ravenclaw cocked his head to the side and walked to Professor Dumbledore's desk.

"Looks like he has our assignments already planned," the wizard said. "He's got several books and articles for you."

"Really?" Minerva peered over his shoulder and grabbed the note from his hands.

_Miss McGonagall,_

_From what transpired after your transformation, you expressed a great deal of interest in learning about the Unknown Door. As you know, I went through the door myself, and over the years I've collected a few links, though nothing remotely close to what you wish to find out, I'm sure. Nevertheless, it's better than starting from scratch and I hope you find them more useful that I did._

_Professor Dumbledore_

She smiled at the note, folding it gently and placed it in her pocket, then grabbed the first book.

"What project did Dumbledore give you?" the witch asked.

"I'm working on the genetics of Metamorphmagus', and it's quite fascinating," Richard replied in his rather astute behavior. "I plan on studying it as an intern with Transfiguration Daily."

Minerva narrowed her eyes. "Have you thought about using your Animangus ability in the war?"

The wizard snorted, not taking his eyes away from his book as he wrote down notes. "There's no need to think about involvement, McGonagall, the war will soon be over."

"Dumbledore doesn't think so."

"And when has he gotten the chance to reevaluate the situation? He's not on the front lines, he's a teacher at secluded Hogwarts, thus his opinion on such is futile."

Minerva felt her chest tighten in anger which boiled in her system. She found that her jaw was clenched, preventing her from uttering a single word. She couldn't say anything in her beloved professor's defence without betraying his trust. Everything she knew about Dumbledore's involvement was from sources she should have not heard.

"Why do you ask, anyway?" the wizard asked, his eyes still not leaving the pages. "You're not planning to get into the war, are you?"

"According to you, if the war does end _'soon'_, then I wouldn't be able too, would I? Either way, I want to become an Auror."

"You're crazy, McGonagall. Aurors see horrors that some even go mad over."

"I've heard it all from Merrythought, McRea, I don't need a recap," Minerva said quite sternly, daring him to say something more on the matter, but he didn't.

**October 4th, 1940:**

It was highly unusual for the McGonagall witch do not want to get out of bed, however, in the past month the Time Turner was becoming a curse again. She'd been suffering from a lack of sleep as of late, so when a bug started spreading among the Gryffindors, Minerva was sure to fall ill as well.

"Min?" Poppy shook her sister's shoulder, careful not to disturb the sleeping cat who's curled himself in between Minerva's legs and chest. The girl whimpered something incoherent, shifted unconsciously, then buried her head into her pillow again.

"Min, you need to wake up. It's nearly seven twenty!" If that didn't wake her up, then Poppy didn't know what would. Both witches were wired to awaken instantly upon hearing their names, or an important time, but the sleeping witch didn't stir.

Poppy sighed then wrapped her rust-colored hair to one side. "Rola, can you get Madam Nurix? I think Min's caught the bloody bug."

"Oh, how wonderful! That takes the counts to eight sick in the tower!" the hawk eyed witch exclaimed in deep sarcasm as she ran down the stairs.

"And on her fifteenth birthday too, poor thing. We'll have to do something for her tonight," Augusta whispered. "Come here Mico, don't want you to starve, now do we?"

She poured out a heaping of food in his bowl. Her own cat ate more when his owner was sick, then again, Oscar ate all the time. To her surprise, the typically persistent tomcat didn't budge from his spot. He looked at them with a glare and flicked his stubbed tail with annoyance.

"Come on, boy, don't you want to eat?"

He closed his stunning blue eyes and curled in tighter against Minerva. The witch shrugged in defeat, "I give up."

"He's a worried loyal bugger," Poppy said while a muffling laugh.

"Indeed."

"... it sounds like a good thing I decided to come down here early then," Madam Nurix's voice echoed through the tower as she intruded through the girl's dormitory.

"Good morning, Madam Nurix," Poppy said with a smile.

The Head Matron smiled back, "I don't know about _'good'_, but it is morning, so I should thank you. Now, let's get these students checked on, shall we?" She turned her gaze towards Rolanda and Augusta, "You two better get down to the Great Hall if you want to eat. You're not sick and I'm not going to excuse you."

"Yes, Madam. See you later Poppy." The two left the room, closing the door as they did.

The young witch pulled out her wand and cast a diagnosis spell. "Helena?"

"Yes, dear?" The woman checked Minerva's pulse then nodded, signifying it wasn't out of range.

"What's your opinion on dueling? I mean, we're healers, right? We're suppose to heal the sick and tend to the wounded, not the other way around."

Madam Nurix looked at Poppy's diagnostic. "You were right, she has whatever bug is running rapid in the tower." She sighed and returned to her pupil's question, "Is that what's been troubling you the past few weeks?"

"A little. I've been having a hard time concentrating in duels, not wanting to stun someone or to inflict a jinx that causes something we treat every day."

"I had a hard time with that at your age as well. Unfortunately, only thing I can say to help you with that are these words; there's a war going on, Poppy. Men, women and children are being killed as we speak. When you're on the front lines, you won't see the point in stunning or jinxing someone as an activity any more. It'll be about survival, and that's what the Dueling Club is for. To teach you how to defend yourself when you go out there, so you're not killed."

The young witch nodded. "I understand, thank you."

They suddenly heard a small growl from the bed. Both witches looked down to see a blue eyed, brown furry cat who was standing up on all fours and glaring at them.

"What is it, Mico?" Poppy asked quietly. Minerva shifted a bit in her sleep, murmuring something incoherent. The cat hissed at them causing Madam Nurix to chuckle.

"I think he's informing us to leave before his mistress is awakened. Come along, dear. We still have nine students to check on."

When the two witches finally left; Mico carefully walked on top of Minerva's chest, curled up and began to purr, happy to be alone at last with his witch. He missed her when she was in class, which seemed to be all the time, and fat old Oscar was no fun to play with. So, even if she was sick, he'd treasure moment he could with her to himself.

**February 23th, 1941:**

Rolanda Hooch stayed on her broom even after practice ended, needing time to think about, well, a lot of things, mainly revolving around Xavier. The man was absolutely infuriating sometimes! He'd been testy, sharp and downright intolerable during practice. Minerva ended up snapping at him, ordering him to leave and get his head on straight! To the team's surprise- considering his position as captain -he did, leaving Rolanda to take over the practice being his second. She ended it early, considering the drama already had several players riled up.

"Rola?" Minerva said from the entrance door.

"Go on without me, I need some time alone."

The dark haired witch nodded in understanding and left without another word. Rolanda sighed, not knowing what to feel. She swung her leg over the side, leaned her body over in the opposite direction and let her knees hook around the broomstick, letting the rest of her body hang free several feet from the ground. The cold nipped at her limbs, but she didn't care, she loved doing this. Her mother would have a raging fit if she saw her performing such a stunt, but it helped clear her conflicting feelings over Xavier's outrage.

Things had changed for her this year, just a brush of his hand made her stomach flutter, or she'd blush upon realizing he'd been staring at her. His actions today had her confused, it was completely out of character.

_Or was it a side that I've never seen before?_ Rolanda shook her head, refusing to believe that. _No, I've known Xavier for nearly four years. He's not like that._

Feeling the blood pounding in her head, she finally decided to get off the broom. She swung her torso and at just the right angle, she released herself, landing squarely on her own to feet. Her broom fell into her hands a second later. With a smile of satisfaction, she strode off towards the Gryffindor tower. It was on her way back from the pitch when she saw someone standing on the railing of the covered bridge. Her heart jumped in surprise, realizing it was her Quidditch Captain.

The hawk eyed witch got on her broom and soared up, teetering slightly with dizziness. She barreled her way through the bridge's wall opening, and jumped off her broom.

"Xavier?" Rolanda asked quietly as she walked up to him. "Xavier, what are doing?"

He didn't respond, even as his arms trembled uncontrollably.

"Xavier, please come down from there, you're scaring me!"

"What was it like when your father died?"

His question caught the hawk-eyed witch off guard and she nearly stumbled back. She detested talking about that time of her life, yet, she got a feeling Xavier needed to know. He was in pain, and needed someone to talk him out of his dangerous thoughts.

"It was, um, it was very difficult," the witch swallowed uncomfortably. "My mum was devastated and she never let me out of sight. There were days I wished to be alone and could never get away, I'd scream at her and yell, but she wouldn't listen. I know now why she wouldn't leave me alone, she was afraid I'd commit suicide, unable to deal with my emotions."

"Did you contemplate it?"

A few years ago, she'd have hesitated to answer truthfully. Not this time. She spoke up without embarrassment crawling into her mind.

"Once or twice, but never thought about it extensively. Please, Xavier, get down from there!" She reached a hand up to him, her fingers brushing against his palm, begging for him to accept it. His hand instinctively clasped around hers gently, then gripped it tighter as he carefully stepped away from the ledge and planted both feet firmly on the floor. She'd never felt such instant relief and happiness before. Rolanda looked into his eyes, those beautiful eyes that she sometimes would dream about/

"Feel better?" she asked. He nodded, not breaking away from her gaze. The witch wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Good. Now, do you want to talk about it?"

Xavier looked away for a moment, his hands began to tremble again. He sat down with his back to the wall, tears swelling into his eyes as he dwelt into thoughts he'd rather forget.

"Two days ago, I found out that my parents died in the Blitz raid that nearly obliterated Swansea," he choked down a sob, fighting tears as he continued. "No witch, wizard or Muggle stood a chance."

Rolanda parted her lips in shock and sympathy. Part of her wanted to say something in comfort, but she knew far to well there wasn't anything that could be said at the moment. He needed to talk, grief and vent, especially now before the built up emotions consumed him.

"They sent me a letter about a week ago telling me they were going to aid MEAR and join the Brombers. They told me the dangers involved but..." He closed his mouth and gripped his robes into a ball, fighting the urge of break down. She got closer, wrapping her arms around him. Her heart ached seeing him like this. A few years ago he'd lost his Aunt and Uncle, now it was his parents. "I didn't really... I couldn't fathom..."

She hushed his words, wiping away several tears with her thumb as she did. "You needn't say it, Xavier. I understand."

He leaned into her embrace, wading out his grief until he could no longer put forth the effort. Even then, they stayed there, locked in their embrace. Rolanda unconsciously began to stroke her fingers through his beautiful brown hair as her other hand rubbed comforting circles on his back. She didn't say a word, not even when her bottom went numb from the freezing wooden panels or when her nose stung from the bitter cold air.

"I'm scared, Rola," he finally perked up, speaking in soft whispers. "I don't know what to do, how to move on."

The witch frowned sadly as she held him. "What did you plan on doing after Hogwarts?"

"Joining the Brombers, like Mum and Papa. Those with exceptional flying skills are needed now more than ever with the Blitz."

"And now, what is it that you want?"

"Aside from the obvious, I want to make them proud and avenge them. They died trying to protect the innocent lives the Nazi's and Untergang are trying to destroy. Do you think it would?"

Rolanda nodded. "I know it would, Xavier, and they would love you even if you didn't. They're your parents, anything you do which you think is right, they'll be proud about."

Xavier nodded in agreement. "Reminds me when Papa took me to to the lake, he said I could be anything I wanted and I childishly ask him if I could be a bird. We laughed so hard that we nearly turned the boat over!" The two friends chuckled, but the wizard grew silent again after a few moments, "I... um... thank you, Rola. I needed that."

He smiled, and she gave him one in return, clasping her cold fingers over his.

"You know I'd do anything for you. If you ever need to talk again, don't hesitate to-"

Xavier placed a slender finger on her lips and made a soft hushing noise until she finally stopped speaking. "I know, Rola. You're truly a wonder and a blessing to me, thank you."

When the hawk eyed girl found herself blushing furiously, she turned around and began walking back to the castle. "Come on, we don't want to be late for dinner."

The wizard smirked a bit then ran to catch up to her.

"I wonder if they'll have pudding for dessert?" he casually asked while casually clasping his hand around her own. "I could do with a good dose of chocolate."

"Here here!"

**May 10th, 1941:**

It was when Minerva was about to step into the Dueling Ring that the announcement came; Winston Churchill was appointed Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, the Nazis and the Untergang had officially ended the Blitz- leaving the death toll at over 40,000 Muggles and nearly 5,000 Witches and Wizards in their wake.

"Because of the destruction caused, Hogwarts will remain open during the summer until this war is over in both worlds, and even then if you need a place to stay, Hogwarts is always welcome," Professor Merrythought informed them in a kind manor many had not seen in a while. "You will need permission from your parents to stay, of course. If certain circumstances prevent you from being able to contact them, please let your Head of House know."

Minerva frowned, raised her hand and spoke upon being acknowledged. "Will the children in Hogsmeade be allowed to stay over the summer as well?"

"Indeed they will, and that brings up another topic. If you stay here; you will be able to use magic, and several of you becoming fifth, sixth and seventh years will be selected to mentor the young children, especially those wanting to become Prefects."

Minerva felt her heart swell with hope. There was no way she could miss this. Becoming a prefect gave her a higher chance of becoming Head Girl. If she earned the title, the Ministry would be nearly forced to accept her application, especially in these dark times.

"All right everyone, back to your groups and begin the duels!" Merrythought barked, completely back in her stern professor persona.

"Good luck, Min!" Poppy squeezed her arm and gave her a wink. The dark haired witch nodded her thanks and finally stepped into the ring to battle her opponent.

"Round one; McGonagall of Gryffindor and Hopkins from Hufflepuff!" Professor Beery announced.

The two duelists conducted the proper etiquette and waited until the count of three to attack or defend. Minerva's tactic for today was to win, quickly and easily against those who didn't pose much of a challenge, to save her strength for the final matches. Her tactic did her credit. The first several duels flew by with no more than a few flicks of her wand. Some considered her ruthless- not that she minded -though some believed she was just naturally talented. Either way, what did it matter?

Finally, she got a break from her rounds and sat down amongst her friends.

"You're absolutely a marvel out there, Min! I wouldn't want to go up against you!" Augusta said.

Rolanda rolled her eyes. "Gusta, if you could get a few charms under your belt, you'd at least be a challenge!"

"Speaking of challenges," Pomona spoke up, "Min, I wish you luck, but don't go easy on me."

Minerva laughed. "Agreed, Mona. Though I'll try not to stun you, I hear Enervate can lead to a bad headache."

Poppy huffed. "Oh that it does! But don't expect me to revive any of you while I'm dueling!"

"Round 18; Malfoy of Slytherin and Hooch of Gryffindor!" Beery shouted.

"That's me!" Rolanda sang with excitement. "Oh, and I have Malfoy? YES!" she giggled, then winked at Xavier who quietly sat in his chair behind her with a smile. "You'll all want to watch this. I've got a plan up my sleeves!"

"When doesn't she?" Xavier said with amusement after the hawk-eyed witch dashed up to the arena, forcing several chuckles from the group.

"I just hope she knows what she's doing," Minerva bit her lip. "I mean, she's wonderful in the Defensive Arts, but she's hardly practiced!"

Augusta smirked. "Oh, I don't know, Min, you might be surprised! Rola's picked up several things from you over the year, and if there's one thing we all know she's good at, it's the Impediment and Knockback jinxes!"

"True," the dark haired witch agreed, then turned her attention to the impending match. To her surprise, Rolanda didn't show an ounce of excitement, save for her taunting bright golden eyes, and she was the first to fire a spell- one that would not have been Minerva's first choice.

"_Impedimita!"_

Malfoy took the spell without entirely realizing it as he fired his own set of jinxes. But they were slow, and very easy to block, in fact, so easy that a second year could have accomplished it.

"_Confundo!"_ the witch cast after a block. Combined with her Impediment jinx, the Slytherin was now casting spells to-and-fro without realizing how slow his spells were. The platinum blond began to get frustrated from the roaring laughter from the crowd, unable to see what what was so hysterical that tears were being shed from the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

"Why are you laughing?" he yelled at them. "She's losing!"

With that, Rolanda hit him with a stunning and disarming spell, winning the match. She knew Malfoy would be holding a grudge against her and Minerva now, but it was so worth it!

"Ten points to Miss Hooch for cleaver workings of jinxes and a for making my day much brighter!" Professor Beery said, clearly declaring Rolanda the victor as he wiped tears from his own eyes. Augusta went next, battling a Ravenclaw from a year above. Despite her obvious lack of charm work, she managed to make up for it with Transfiguration and physical flexibility. She conjured birds on the count of three, sending them flying at her opponent as she dodged a hex.

"_Araneafors!" _The Gryffindor turned the flying animals into creepy, crawling, spiders. Several eight legged creatures fell on top of the poor Ravenclaw. He hollered out an high pitched shriek and jumped out of the ring, braving the harsh sting, while continuing to scream, "GET 'EM OFF! GET 'EM OFF!"

If there was one things Augusta proved to and reminded Minerva, it was that old fashion dodging worked just fine, also using an opponent's fear could never hurt.

When the surprisingly victorious Gryffindor began to walk back to her seat, she was stopped mid-way by Kevin Longbottom. "Hey, Louise-"

"What do you want, Longbottom?"

"Well, I was going to congratulate you, Louise, but if you want to argue instead-"

"No, I- I'm sorry. I should have jumped down your throat like that," she extended her hand in apology. He shook it with a bit of a smirk.

"That's what a thought," he said, then walked away, leaving a rather puzzled Augusta behind him. "If you ever need help with those charms, you could ask."

Well, not so confused now. She shook her head, unsure whether to take the comment as genuine help, or more of his banter about her lack of skill in the subject.

"What was that from Longbottom? He didn't gloat about his superior talent in charms to you, did he?" Poppy asked when Augusta came back.

"If he did, I'll give him a piece of my mind," Pomona spoke up, showing a side of brash loyalty that was borderline to a Gryffindor, or perhaps just her badger instinct?

"Mona!" Rolanda poked her in exasperation. "Never thought I'd hear that from you. We lions must be brushing off!"

"Never!" she sniffed.

Augusta shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure what he had in mind, nor am I sure that I care."

Minerva smirked, hearing a soft edge in her friend's voice that wouldn't have been there if what she said was true. But she'd let that be, no need to delving into emotions, it was borderline Divination, was it not?

"What?" Augusta asked the green eyed witch quietly, who's her smirk morph into a smile.

"Oh nothing, nothing at all."

**May 16th, 1941:**

_Dear Papa,_

_Even though the Blitz has officially been declared over, Hogwarts if offering summer stay to those students who wish to. If I do stay, I can get recognition into being a Prefect (I hope I've mentioned what they are to you before, because becoming a Prefect, (and hopefully Head Girl) is a great honor, responsibility and very personal goal of mine. As you know, I've been seeing Cayden about once a week and he extends his wish to stay here at Hogwarts too._

_I love you,_

_Minerva_

The dark haired witch sighed, looking over her letter for the sixth time this morning.

"Min, are you going to send the letter or make the poor owl wait 'till he's plucked all his feather out?" Augusta smirked.

"Oh fine," Minerva rolled her eyes then quickly folded the parchment and placed it into an envelope. "Take this to the McGonagall Manor in Caluim, Caithness."

The owl squawked, secured the letter in his beak and took off. The dark haired witch inhaled deeply, then sighed. "I don't imagine that'll go over well."

"Oh please, Min, would it kill you to have a little optimism once in awhile?"

Pomona laughed. "It might if she took her Herbology quiz!"

The green-eyed witch suddenly stood up. "Oh no, I completely forgot all about that!"

The Hufflepuff pulled Minerva back down her to seat in one swift motion. "Calm down, Min. It's not until next week!"

"Yes, and I have yet to finish writing my end of term essay for Animagus Studies, figure out the ingredients for Felix Felicis, and write another two essays over Black Cauldrons and Banshees, of which I know nothing about yet!"

"Merlin's pants, Minerva! It's no wonder you're stressed, you're overworking yourself!" Augusta moved from the other side of table and sat beside her friend with a smile on her lips. "Mona, do you have any commitments today?"

Pomona seemed to catch the gleam in the witch's eyes, catching onto a plan being made, and winked at the blonde haired Gryffindor. "Nope, not a one."

"Nor do I. So, Min, how about we three go to the Library and help you get caught up? Poppy's busy with Madam Nurix and Rola is... where is that bubbly witch anyway?"

"She's with Xavier, discussing tactics for the Cup match," Minerva said with a smile, her nerves gone with Augusta's wonderful suggestion. She could really be a good friend sometimes.

Pomona snickered. "Yeah right, it's more like she's flirting and teasing him. Did you know, I caught them alone on the Stone Bridge yesterday, near curfew time. Her face was flushed as if he'd kissed her!"

Minerva dropped her jaw with wide smile tugging at her lips. "Well, that would explain why she couldn't go to sleep last night!"

"Indeed!" Pomona looked at Augusta, whose eyes were slightly glazed over in deep thought. "Hey, Miss Spacey, are you in another world?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry..." she blushed. "Have you noticed Kevin Longbottom recently?"

Minerva and the Hufflepuff looked at each other with confusion, "Other than the fact that he slightly unnerved you during last week's dueling matches?"

"Yeah, other than that," the blond haired Gryffindor said with a smile. "You know, now that I look back at it, I don't think he was attempting to aggravate me like usual.

Minerva clicked her tongue. "Gusta, I thought you _hated_ him."

"I thought I did too..." Augusta blushed again as she grabbed her things.

"Great," Pomona whispered with dark amusement, "Rola was the first to fall, now it's Gusta. Who will be next, I wonder?"

"Well, it won't be me, that I can assure you," Minerva said with utmost certainty. "Magic is far more intriguing than immature boys."

* * *

><p><strong>Dat-da-da-dah! Romance has finally made his way in here! PoaG may be a tragedy, but it's also a romantic story, and oh the fluff and author can weave! I'm also very glad to write something of Mico again, I missed the little fur ball.<strong>

**If you haven't yet, make sure you check out next chapter's teaser picture on my website in "Gallery" or at** _darthvandola. deviantart art/No-Rules-283005323_

**You won't regret it, or so I'm told ;)**

**Next time will reveal the much anticipated Chapter 15 - Piertotum Locomotor, and reveal everything the teaser has unveiled- such as why Minerva has the Sword of Godric Gryffindor! Oh, and there will be Chocolate Button Pancakes in Honeydukes if it is the last thing I do, Spin! :D**

**~LinK**


	16. Piertotum Locomotor

_**It's the story of your life, you're tearing out the page**_

_**New chapter on underway**_

_**The story of your life, you live it every day**_

_**You can run, you run**_

_**But you won't get away**_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

~Along with **EmPoweredBeing**, **Spin84** has joined in on the project!

**My dear readers, you have made it at last!** After two weeks of teasing, you are now rewarded for your long, hard, wait! :D Also, because the size of the sword of Godric Gryffindor decides to change in the film, I've adopted a theory that it can magically shrink or extend the blade :P**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15 - Piertotum Locomotor<strong>

**May 18th, 1941:**

The dark haired witch was at the table, reminiscing with her friends over lunch, when her brother came rushing over with a piece of parchment in his hand. It was rather unusual for him to even want to be associated with his sister, so whatever made him to cross the line must have been important.

"Well, hello Malcom," Minerva said rather stiffly, though added a smile afterwards.

"Hi Minnie, take a look at this!" He handed his sister the parchment, but she didn't look at it, instead she glared at him for saying her nickname.

"I told you to never call me that in school."

"Yeah, I know. Read the letter!"

The Gryffindor sighed in frustration, then pealed her gaze from her brother and down to the piece of parchment.

_My dear children;_

_Your father and I have talked and believe it is a wonderful idea for you three to stay at Hogwarts over the summer, war or not. I've sent my wishes to your Heads of Houses so you needn't worry about informing them. Make sure to send me a list of your school supplies when August comes around. I'll make sure they get to you before the start of term._

_With love,  
>Màthair<em>

Minerva blinked a few times and had to re-read the letter again to realize she wasn't imagining it, then licked her lips.

"Well, isn't that exciting? We get to use magic over the summer!" Malcom pressed on.

"Yes, it is exciting." She looked up at her brother with a smile. "Thank you for informing me, however," she glanced at the Slytherin table were Malcom usually sat, "you might want to be going back now. Your _friends_ aren't entirely happy with you being over here."

Malcom rolled his eyes with a smirk then took his leave. The dark haired witch took a deep breath and exhaled as she rubbed her temples.

"Everything alright, Min?" Pomona asked with a raised brow.

Minerva nodded her head. "For once, Mona, I think it is. Remind me to visit Cayden before dinner, he'll be ecstatic to hear the news."

**May 30th, 1941:**

His thumbs grazed gently over her hands, making Rolanda's stomach flutter and cheeks flush. Even now she couldn't get the feeling out of her head when Xavier kissed her over the Stone Bridge. It had been her first, and just as magical as she imagined, though helped he had experience before- not that it bothered her. Since then, they'd kissed a few times over again, each in a secluded area, not wanting the attention and cooing from their class mates. Neither entirely knew where this was going or if they were courting, but it didn't bother them. Her mother warned her that crushes and hormones would go directly to her head and possibly cloud her judgement, but it wasn't like that with Xavier. To anyone else, it might seem so, but they didn't feel what she did. She could never explain how _right_ it felt when he held her hand, when that non-magical spark ignited her heart, making her feel whole. Eventually, she didn't even need physical contact to feel it. Just watching him, or when their eyes meet from across the room her breath would hitch from pure happiness.

"Xavier?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, Rola?"

"We should talk about... _us."_ She looked in to his eyes with a smile to assure him it wasn't too serious. "I like you, and I _know_ you feel the same way, but I think we should wait to _start_ things. You're still adjusting to your parents' death, we have the Quidditch Cup coming up soon and we need to prepare, you have six N.E.W.T. classes to study for and Mum and Minerva will hunt me down to my grave if don't I study for my own exams..."

He nodded softly, not breaking from her gaze. "I know."

"And?" she prompted. "What are your thoughts?"

He looked at her with another smile tugging at his lips- that smart, cocky and sweet smile she loved. "I treasure our friendship, even if it's now a little more than that. I knew you had something working up in your system, and I'm glad you told me. To be quite honest, I think you're right; we should wait, at least until summer starts. We'll both be staying here at Hogwarts and by then we can sort out feelings and," he sighed with a bit of a chuckle, "For you, Rola, I'll wait until the sun burns out."

Xavier said exactly what the hawk eyed witch wanted to hear, but more importantly he meant it, and she couldn't deny her feelings any longer. Cupping his face, she kissed him squarely on the lips, over and over again. He responded, continuously deepening each of them and tugging on her bottom lip, until she broke away with breathless bliss.

"Xavier, I don't know what love really is, but if this isn't it, then I don't know what is."

"You're sure it's not hormones?" He chuckled jokingly as he brushed a short lock of hair from her face. He loved not having to deal with thick, long hair getting in the way.

Her voice lowered into a crisp, clear sternness that he knew better than to challenge. "No, that it's not. I've pondered over my feelings for you since that February eve, when we walked hand-in-hand into the Great Hall. I know my feelings, and they're strong because I care for you more than anything in the world." She paused for a moment. "Well, except maybe the girls, but that's a different story."

Xavier laughed and Rolanda joined with him, he had a way of doing that, and she to him. They both knew most young couples, especially with two years between them, didn't last long. But they weren't worried about that. They weren't worried much about anything these days except the war, even though Hogwarts did an excellent job of keeping news of such very low. Even when something horrible was reported, they took it together, entrusting their friendship and blossoming affection within each other.

They parted ways soon, however, Xavier found he couldn't get rid of the grin on his face for the rest of the day, even when studying for Ancient Runes.

**June 24th, 1941:**

The first week of summer at Hogwarts was far more wonderful than Minerva could have predicted. She volunteered for helping Madam Rominara keep track of the children, prevent them from getting into trouble and make sure they were all tucked into bed at a reasonable hour. On top of that, she and Rolanda taught and supervised 'mini' Quidditch matches, which was quite entertaining.

Every now and then she found herself helping children control their magic. The little wizards and witches which came to her were usually those experiencing difficulties being abroad for so long without much parental contact, and Cayden was no exception. She'd seen him twice in the first week and today made it the third. His temper could easily get the best of him, it came with being the youngest sibling and knowing that he couldn't see his parents because of a war he did not understand, thus affecting his control of magic tremendously.

The little boy with long, messy black hair came to her with a pink note signed by Madam Rominara. His eyes were between angry and confusion, unlike the slightly excited look she was used to. Something wrong must have indeed happened for him to not be his normally cheerful self. The little wizard handed her the note without a word, or eye contact. The witch didn't read it, nor did she take a glance at it. Cayden sat down in the chair near her and his hands folded together, refusing to look into Minerva's eyes.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked quietly, searching for a glance from his beautiful green eyes, but he didn't give it to her. "Cayden, tell me what happened."

"I didn't mean to, it just happened. I didn't mean to light the tree on fire."

The 'accidental' cause wasn't new, however, lighting things on fire was. Never had her little brother resorted to violent magic before.

Minerva sighed. "And what were you doing when this happened?"

"Yelling at Flint to_ 'take it back'_."

"Take what back, Cayd?"

"Flint said Màthair was no better than a Mudblood, that you, Malcom and I were the same. I didn't mean to burn the tree, I didn't realize I had until I swung at him."

"_You hit him?"_

"I think I broke his nose," Cayden said with a small smirk. "He deserved it, Minvey, don't deny it."

Minerva's lips thinned with frustration. On one hand, she wanted to give Flint a piece of mind herself, while on the other, she knew it wasn't right. She could see why her little brother acted as he did, but that didn't excuse his actions, "You and I both know what Flint said is wrong; blood is not muddied nor dirty because of parentage, magic status or not. I understand your anger, however, why you did was wrong, Cayden. Physically assaulting someone is madness and degrades you to their level."

"I know."

Minerva hugged the small boy and kissed his forehead. "Why don't we got to Honeydukes tomorrow for breakfast? We can have your favorite Chocolate Button pancakes, and we can talk about things. I know you're missing Màthair and Papa, I think it'd be good for you."

Cayden's brilliant emerald green eyes finally looked into her own identical copies as he smiled. "I'd like that."

"Well then, it's settled." She grinned, and tussled his hair. "Now, I must get back to Hogwarts before dinner starts, so I'll owl you later."

She gave him a kiss on the check and he returned it. "I love you, Minvey."

"I love you too, Cayd."

* * *

><p>Although there was freedom of walking back and forth to Hogsmeade, Minerva slipped into her Animagus. She loved to feel the grass beneath her paws, how the wind ruffled her fur and swayed her whiskers. Even though it's been nearly two years since her Right of Passage, it never ceased to surprise her how surreal the feeling of being another animal was. When she reached Hogwarts grounds, she found her secret passage way to hid herself when she transformed back. Following the passage, she entered near Gryffindor Tower, spotted her group of friends and began walked towards them when a voice from the other direction called her name.<p>

"Miss McGonagall, come here," Professor Merrythought said quite sternly, clearly informing Minerva that she had no patients for nonsense. The green eyed witch looked at her friends with an apologetic smile, then quickly walked towards her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. When she got close, the professor motioned for her to follow and Minerva had to increase her stride in order to keep up with Merrythought, who's long flowing indigo robes billowed respectfully behind her.

"I am sure you are well aware that the war is far from over, even with the Blitz at an end," she spoke crisply and kept her eyes in front of her.

"I know the war is still going on but without the _Prophet_ to inform us of what's happening I don't know-"

"You shouldn't need a bloody news paper to tell you the state of a war," Merrythought interjected, never once letting up her pace. "Three days ago, the Germans turned on the Soviet Union and the war is far worse than you can imagine. The Wizarding World in Europe and Eurasia has erupted into pure chaos. They do not know who to trust, neither the Untergang, Anhänger or Grindelwald has officially declared that they are enemies against the Soviets." She moved to the side slightly, letting a student through the hall, then continued her pace with even more force.

"Professor, can we stop for a moment?"

"No. The war does not stop for anyone, McGonagall, you should get that through your head while we are at it."

The fact that the Defensive Arts teacher still hadn't looked at Minerva was extremely irritating and the intense topic that was hanging in the air made the green eyed witch loose her patience.

"While _we_ are at _what,_ Professor Merrythought? What is so important that can't be discussed-"

Merrythought stopped abruptly, turning to face her student. "Over the duration of this summer, you will report to the Room of Requirement once a week. There I will be teaching you how to duel-"

"Professor, I'm in the Dueling Cl-"

"Do not interrupt me, Minerva! Yes, I'm very well aware that you are in the club. However, compared to war it is like two monkeys laughing at each other. You want to be an Auror, yes? Well, you may get in the program just fine, but you will not survive if you do not learn how things are really done. It is vicious, haunting, debilitating and unforgivably fatal. You _will_ report to the Room of Requirement, _ready or not!_"

Minerva blinked for a moment, shocked at her Professor's forwardness. "Yes, Madam."

"Good," Merrythought sighed, closing her eyes and seeming to remove the stern mask. When she opened her crystal blue eyes, she spoke gain. "I expect to see you tomorrow at nine in the morning, sharp."

The green eyed witch looked away for a moment as she remembered her promise to Cayden. It would have to wait. When her eyes snapped back to her professor, it was with a fierce determination. "What will we be doing, Professor?"

"That is for you to find out. I believe in learning on the job and I warn you to be prepared to defend yourself against anything. That being said, Minerva, I suggest you get a good night's rest and do not over exhaust yourself today. Now, I must go. Professor Dumbledore has insisted on a meeting and I can not miss it."

Merrythought began to walk away with a the look the professor's eyes that sparked something with in Minerva. It was faint, and very vague, she wasn't even sure it was real.

"Professor, forgive me for asking, but isn't your Animagus a wolf?"

The elder witch looked over her shoulder, her eyes betraying nothing. "Yes, it is. Why do you ask?"

Minerva frowned. "I'm not sure. I remember seeing a wolf one time when I was little, although I'm not exactly sure if it's a memory or dream, I don't recall anything except the wolf staring at me." She shrugged and shook her head. "I'm sorry to bother you, Professor, have a good day. I'll see you tomorrow, ready and prepared for whatever you throw at me."

The green eyed witch turned around and began walking towards the Great Hall for dinner, but little did she realize Galatea had been moved to tears. She staggered into her room, muttering the password under her ragged breathe with a hand over her heart as if it could stop at any moment, and then pressed her back against the door as her body convulsed into a tremble.

"Merlin, help me," she cried, wrapping her arms around her stomach while slowly sliding to the ground. Tears dripped from eyes which any student would deem frozen. Anyone, but Albus Dumbledore. He'd been waiting for her to arrive and when he heard the door slam, he instantly knew something was wrong. However, seeing Galatea as she was- sobbing quietly as her body shook -was not what he expected. Silently thanking whatever gods there were that he put up the silencing charm before hand, Albus quickly made his way to her side and wrapped his long arms around her in comfort.

"My dear friend, what has happened?" he whispered after the tears had gone, though the trembling stayed with her hitched breathing, still ragged with raw emotion.

Galatea shook hear head solemnly. "She remembers, Albus, she remembers..."

The auburn haired wizard had no idea what his friend was talking about, and he knew he'd never get an answer. It was how Professor Galatea Merrythought was- thoroughly devoted to Isobel's wishes.

_But at what cost?_ He wondered, _Minerva's going to war whether Isobel likes it or not, and Galatea fully supports Minerva's goal to become an Auror. Oh, my dear friend, what have you gotten yourself into?_

He should have asked himself that same question four years ago.

**July 25th, 1941:**

Minerva followed what her Defence Against the Dark Arts professor suggested yesterday; she went to sleep on a regular time and read most of the day, to Rolanda's disappointment, and she had to cancel her with Cayden, but something told her that was the least of her worries.

When she reached the entrance of the room, the witch took a deep breath and looked at the clock in the hallway. She had thirty seconds to wait. Whenever Professor Merrythought said _'sharp'_, when referring to time, she literally meant right as the second hand clicked- not even a half minuet to give-or-take. Minerva fiddled with her wand as the seconds ticked by, feeling the rising tension within her. She had her hand on the door handle when the clock struck nine and immediately turned the handle and stepped inside.

The room was different than it usually was for the Dueling Club. The lighting was very dim- only one or two mysterious blue lights, but where the walls were, she couldn't tell. Not even her integrated feline night vision could see them. They must have disappear as she entered the room.

She looked around the room. "Professor?"

There was no response. Something metal scrapped against the stone floor. On instinct, Minerva turned her head towards the sound.

"Professor Merrythought?"

In a split second, her peripheral vision caught sight of something propelling it's self at her. The witch didn't think when she dropped to her knees, it was all reflex. Whatever the object was, it'd passed over her head only by a few inches and was now lost in the abyss of darkness.

"Good to know your Animagus reflexes are working," a familiar voice echoed around the room. "You will probably be more than grateful you became a cat when this is over. Those instincts could mean life or death."

The green eyed witch drew herself to full height once again, her grip on her wand loosened to provide more flexibility. This was most definitely not a game, which she found was partially the difference between Merrythought's training style than Dumbledore's and she wasn't sure which one she would like or be more effective in the end.

"Where are you, Professor?" Minerva asked, unable to pinpoint where the voice had come from. Again, she didn't get an answer, but her eyes flickered to another movement and her wand was ready this time. _"Stupefy!"_

When a clank occurred, as if a dent was made into metal, a sigh echoed around the room. "You fired a spell _before_ knowing your opponent? Really, Minerva, I would have thought you knew better than that. Either way, you do not need to see me. I should not be your priority at the moment, your attacker should be."

The object came closer, revealing an animated statue of a knight holding a- now dented -shield and a polished steel, menacing scythe.

"Rules?" Minerva demanded, not letting her wand waiver.

"There are no rules in war."

With those words, the statue lunged. The witch reacted with a single flick of the wand, firing the Reductor curse and her attacker was obliterated into dust.

"Was that to your liking, Professor?"

"It was rather interesting. I would have chosen a different spell to start with, but that is for you to find out why. Let's try two."

Before she realized it, there was an opponent on her left and one on her right- both bringing down their swords from over their heads in unison. Minerva dove into a somersault on the ground, the sound of firm steel clashing together from behind as she sprang back up to cast the same curse she inflicted on her last opponent. Except this steel knight seemed to learn from it's predecessor's mistake and threw his shield in the path of the spell. The clanking of armored feet alerted the witch of the second statue and she aimed her wand at the ground.

"_Bombarda Maxima!"_

The floor crumbled under the statue's feet and it fell, but the the shield-less opponent jumped. It's feet clanked against the ground a few feet away from the witch, and the sword swung. However, it met solid stone as Minerva transformed into her Animagus a few seconds earlier, and scurried away. With enough distance between them, she leaped in the air, twisting her body around as she transformed back, and fired a freezing spell. When she landed on her feet, the lone statue was frozen. She smiled and exploded it with another Reductor curse.

"Very good, Minerva. I wonder how you will fair with three?"

"You have got to be kidding me."

"War does not rest for the weary, dear."

The witch rolled her eyes, and once more found herself immediately in the center of an ambush. But she ready this time when they swung, encasing her entire body with a wandless shield charm. The swords bounced off her like rubber. Minerva didn't wait for them to act again, quickly disarming one opponent of his weapon, then dodging an series of oncoming blows. When a whistle rang through her ears as a blade swung inches from her face, she had enough. With one hand pointed to her left, and her wand on her right, she propelled her magic to work through both methods at the same time. _"VENTUS!"_

A high velocity, burst of wind tossed her two armed opponents across the room like little toy the witch didn't expect, however, was the third, sword-ridden statue to use the metal kite as a battering ram. The blow knocked her off her feet, tossing the witch several feet away. For a second, Minerva lost all sense of time as her body slammed and tumbled against the hard stone floor, sending her wand several feet away. She could feel a cut on her check swell and begin to drain of the scarlet, salty, metallic liquid. It seeped into her lips as she lay there, completely dazed for several moments.

"Minerva?" Merrythought's voice rippled in her mind like water. She couldn't breathe, but that didn't stop her from summoning her wand back into her possession. Her chest felt like fire as she mentally pried her lungs open and gasped for air- coughing a sputtering with pain as she did. Despite the ground was spinning under her feet, the witch could still pick out the clanking sounds of polished metal grouping together again and realized if she didn't act soon, she'd be surrounded again.

_Merrythought was right,_ Minerva thought as she struggled to fight pass the clamping agony in her chest. She had a sinking feeling that she'd suffered a few broken ribs, _The Dueling Club is a joke compared to this!_

"Child, are you alright?"

The witch didn't reply, instead, she transformed into her small tabby form and ran. She didn't know where she was going, but when she came upon a dead end she transformed back, unable to run any longer. With hands on her knees to catch her breath, Minerva knew needed a plan and fast. With her magic now rendered into a defence, she needed an offensive weapon; a light weight and magically generated sword. Having read nearly half of the book in the Library by now, she'd heard of the blade before and wished for it into her palm, not entirely sure it could be conjured with the room.

But she trusted in magic and her will power to never surrender was unyielding. Suddenly, the cool, sleek touch of polished steel was felt in her hands. Minerva gripped it tightly, then brought the blade to her eye level, where the letters that spelled '_Godric Gryffindor'_ were engraved near the hilt. A sly, confident smile tugged at her lips upon hearing her attackers advancing their position to corner her. Quickly, she switch the sword with her wand to put more power behind her swings. She stood there, her back to the oncoming statues, waiting for them.

It didn't take long before the clanking animated knights to reach her, though when they did, she sprang into action before they could react; casting the Knockback jinx on her first opponent armed solely with a shield. The statue stumbled back, crashing into the second. When the third came around the corner, Minerva swung decisively, her blade severing his sword arm without hesitation. Taking advantage of his disorientation, she kicked the shield away and blasted the statue into pieces when she muttered the curse. The lone shield statue picked up the sword of his fallen ally and ran with his partner side by side.

Upon hearing the two enemies closing upon her, she became a tabby again and ran through their legs, dodging several blows that nearly hacked off her tail. She jumped into the air, transforming back and turned around- connecting her blade with another as her wand wordlessly fired the _Deprimo_ charm on the second statue, forcing it the knight to the ground.

The witch blocked a blow aimed at her head, kicked her opponent back, then pointed her wand at the sword, and fired the feather transfiguration charm. In a blink of an eye, a giant feather erupted, replacing the steel. She didn't have time to smirk in triumph however, as the spell worn off on the floored statue and she barely had time to raise her blade in defence. The knight cleverly aimed several swings at her new wand arm, resulting in her immediate switch of magic, using the shield charm, then swinging her blade. It was becoming interesting, switching between fighting modes, but she was picking up the basics with ease.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Minerva managed to break from her opponent, acting purely out of desperation as the second statue charged at her from behind. Her reflexes kicked in as she dove, faster than she could have ever imagined, forcing her body to tumble don the stone floor again, antagonizing her chest again. Hearing a terrible sounds of metal armor crashing together, made her head spin. Her head was pounding with the effort to suppress the pain emitting from her chest. She couldn't have been able to breath other wise. The witch forced herself to stand, and immediately took advantage, turning one statue into dust with a flick of her wand. The other knight dodge her spell and when she tried to fire it again, he deflected it with his shield.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

The spell came from no where that she could see. No flash of light emitted around her, and Professor Merrythought's voice seemed to surround her. Minerva's wand slipped from her hand without control, flying into the unknown. Her attention went into what direction it soared, and that cost her. The witch didn't have time to react when she felt her thick, long, dark tail of hair being severed. The red ribbon slipped down from the impact and fell to the stone floor. Something inside her snapped. In an instant, all she could feel was a blinding rage for this all to end. With two hands gripping the hilt, she turned around and sliced at her opponent, her short hair violently whipping at her cheeks as she did. The sudden clank of metal should have alerted the witch that she'd cleaved through her opponent's blade, but she didn't take notice. In one swift motion, she brought her weapon around again and severed the statue's head without hesitation or mercy.

It took Minerva several moments to come to a full realization of her physical and mental exhaustion that was slowly creeping into her body. Her arms were shaking as the decorated sword shrank into dagger size before she nearly dropped it as trembling legs collapsed under her. The pain in her chest made a comeback with full brunt force, yet she didn't cry or shed a single tear. A figure appeared in front of her blurry eyes and the lighting of the room steadily brightened so she could see the woman's featured. Professor Merrythought.

"_Episkey Maxima."_

Minerva whimpered with the sudden increase of pain, although it thankfully faded in a moment and she could now breathe again without the aid of magic. The witch shifted her weight, bringing her legs in front of her and leaned against a wall which seemed to appear instantly to her need. A warm hand wrapped around Minerva's cold fingers and her eyes were brought into focus, staring into her professor's worried eyes.

"Are you alright, child?" The green eyed witch only nodded, still trying to steady her breathing. "Good, because you gave my quite a fright. Now, you will be sore for a while, so I imagine you will not make the same mistake."

The bleeding cut on her cheek dried up with another murmur of a spell, then she felt the cool sting of a soaked cloth bushing against her skin and she flinched.

"Hold still," Merrythought whispered with her icy blue eyes pleading.

"You can easily clean it with a spell, Professor," the Gryffindor spoke with a tone that was careful not to sound disrespectful.

"Not when the wound was created by a metallic object. It is best to wash it first- and you can call me 'Galatea', dear."

Minerva didn't say anything, her mind still trying to slow down from battle and to control her shaking limbs

"It will get easier to transition of your unique fighting style. I will admit, I was not expecting you to summon a sword."

"Not just any sword, Prof... _Galatea_, it's Godric Gryffindor's."

Merrythought brought the cloth away from her student's cheek as surprise settled into the elder witch's mind. The girl's grip on the hilt tightened as she handed the dagger sized weapon to Galatea. She took it slowly, as if she couldn't fathom that it was in her possession, then pointed the blade away as it extended to full height. The elder witch's long, bony fingers ran down the side and over the engraved name.

"Never, in all my years have I ever heard of any Gryffindor being able to summon this sword using the Room of Requirement. Professor Dumbledore might be able to if he truly wanted, but _you_ of all people, especially with your family history..."

Minerva narrowed her piercing green eyes, her shaking subsided to a bare minimum now. "What do you mean?"

Galatea glanced at her, staring into the Gryffindor girl's eyes genuinely then looked back at the sword. "I probably should not have told you that." The younger witch parted her lips to speak out, but her professor continued before she had a chance to utter a word. "However, I have stayed quiet for to long and you, my dear, deserve to know _something."_

She sighed and the blade shrank back into it's dagger size, then Galatea muttered a spell to create a holster for the weapon and sheathed it. "Isobel would not want me to say this to you, but I do not think it is a crime. It is not wrong to know what other in your past have done, just as long as you know what they did was wrong and that you're different from them. You have the freedom to choose between right and wrong."

The elder witch suddenly looked into Minerva's eyes with a fierce but almost depressed state, as if she was remembering a deep memory she'd suppressed for many years. "You come from a line of generations mixed with Slytherin and Ravenclaw blood, two of the Hogwarts' Founders blood."

"The Founders? I thought Helena Ravenclaw was the only heir."

"She was not..." the elder witch licked her lips. "Because Rowena had been widowed only for two years, it was unacceptable for her to marry another man for a time, but she fell in love with someone that she held in high regard, Salazar Slytherin." Minerva shivered at his name, unable to fathom why her ancestor- or anyone for that matter -could love a man such as he. Galatea chuckled at her reaction, "Isobel shared the same thoughts as you did. How could she bare the man? But nevertheless, she loved him and bared him two children, twins, if you must know. One was a girl, with piercing blue eyes like her mother, and the other a boy who was an identical copy of his father- physically and mentally.

"Rowena doted over the two children so much that Helena became jealous. She stole the woman's diadem and ran off to Albania, in return, her mother was devastated and drove Salazar away in her grief. He- of course -took his _snake_ of a son with him, leaving his daughter and former lover behind. Godric and Helga tried to help Rowena cope, but it was to late. She died a broken heart, leaving her youngest daughter, Athena, very alone in the world."

Minerva grew very silent, trying to process how this made it unfathomable for her to have been able to summon the sword. "What did she do?"

"Despite Godric and Helga's attempts to keep her in Hogwarts for her final year, Athena left to Norway, there she tracked down her father and brother. She hid her identity, but when Athena found out they were practicing the Dark Arts, she had to learn all the secrets herself. According to some, she stole her estrange family's notes and books they had made and fled somewhere to Transylvania. She conducted horrific torture to prisoners, using them as practice for her magic. Ever since then, the first daughter from the Ravenclaw line has always developed a magical instability one which is often quite severe."

Minerva smirked. "Except me."

Galatea opened her mouth to say something before changing her mind and simply nodding. "Yes, except you, my dear."

The woman sighed softly, closed her eyes and her shoulders slumped a bit as if in relief from long held tension, but also in surrender. Minerva frowned, not entirely sure what to say or do. She was not used to a motherly figure showing feelings of... _love?_ But there was one thing in her mind, so she said it, knowing it was better than nothing.

"Thank you for telling me, Galatea. I think you're the only person I know who has gone against my màthair's wishes."

The woman huffed, either from dark amusement or disgust at herself. "What cold irony, and do not ask what I mean by that. I know how you think, Minerva, so just remember; curiosity killed the cat."

"Only because the cat wasn't clever enough to hide it." Minerva grinned mischievously. Her professor took one glance at her student and nearly laughed.

"Come, dear, let us get off the floor. I am not as youthful as you are." The Gryffindor got up and extended a hand towards her Professor, but she declined it with an amused glare. "I may not be as young and flexible, but I am not so old as to need assistance yet."

Minerva chuckled softly, forcing Galatea to roll her eyes as she stood up. In one swift motion, the professor pulled out the girl's wand from her sleeve, and extended it towards her student. "Next time, do not loose it. You have a very special wand, Minerva, one that your enemies would kill for."

The Gryffindor witch narrowed her eyes as her palm grasped the familiar, smooth, fir wand. "I'm sorry, Galatea, but I don't understand."

The woman sighed. "I suppose the Ollivanders did not tell you, did they? Probably wanted you to find out on your own. My dear, fir wands are survivor wands. You may go through mortal peril, but you will always come out alive, the perfect wand for anyone during times of war."

Minerva blinked rapidly several times before an odd smile of partial embarrassment crept onto her lips. "Galatea, I hope you don't think me pessimistic, but I think you might be looking too close into wandlore."

"Wandlore can tell much about a person, Minerva, it would be best for you to remember that. Isobel's wand is made of Vine; meaning she has a deeply rooted ambition which she wants to see accomplished. However, it also means that even those who knew her best, and I am one of them, will find out they were very much wrong about her and that she is so much more than previously- or currently -believed."

Minerva shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to take her professor's words; She should wonder what Isobel's supposed goal is, but she didn't. She should have asked why Galatea knew so much about her mother, and her family's past, however, it was obvious that Professor Merrythought wasn't going to tell her about either of those mysterious topics. Her eyes flickered to the red ribbon on the ground and gently floated it into her hands. Her green eyes looked upon the fabric with awe- not entirely sure how it managed to survive the cut. Her free hand ran down her dramatically short, ebony with auburn highlighted hair which was Isobel's, and Tradisi's, and probably even Rowena Ravenclaw's.

It suddenly occurred to her she had relations with this Athena. When Galatea explained her heritage to her, she'd understood that she was related, but hadn't had a chance to sink into her mind until now. What her ancestors had done was unforgivable. The torture, the deaths, and Merlin knew what else her family had done. It was in her blood and she couldn't escape it. It then occurred to her that her mother's silence might have been for the best.

Galatea noticed Minerva's subconscious change of thought rather clearly and she cleared her throat to redirected their conversation. "I personally do not favor the new hair cut, my dear, and something tells me you do not either. Would you like me change it back?"

The young witch nodded silently, playing with the ribbon in her hands. No, the hair cut did not suit her tastes one bit, if anything she couldn't use the ribbon. With a wave of her hand, Merrythought returned her student's wondrously beautiful hair back to it's proper length.

"Next time, do not wear your hair so exposed. Try putting it into a bun," the elder witch suggested with a smile, one that Minerva returned as she proceeded to tie her hair back with her beloved ribbon. "For our next lesson, I'll talk to Professor Dumbledore about letting you keep the sword."

To the Galatea's surprise, the green eyed witch shook her head. "No, I couldn't do that. It's a historical relic and belongs to Hogwarts, does it not?"

"It's only a rumor. Truthfully, it never belong to anyone, but the Ministry gave the sword to Professor Dumbledore for his accomplishment on discovering the twelve uses of dragon blood and for making the Philosopher's Stone. As long as you never use it for anything but self defence during your next three years here, and you keep it hidden, I do not see why he wouldn't let you considering how well you fought today."

Minerva contemplated on asking why in the world her Transfiguration professor would let her have the beloved sword, but she had a feeling she already knew the answer. He wanted her to survive in the war just as equally as Merrythought. As the two witches began walking out of the room, a single question lingered in the back of the Gryffindor witch's mind. It hovered for a few seconds before she finally formed it into audible words.

"If you don't mind me asking, Galatea, what spell did you use to animate the statues?"

Her professor smiled with shining crystal eyes. "_Piertotum Locomotor_."

"I hope to be able to use it one day. It must be absolutely thrilling."

**June 26th, 1941:**

It was a good thing, Minerva found out, that she owled her little brother yesterday, or he'd be more upset than he was. Cayden was not angry with her, they both knew that, but he was sure angry with the world. He wanted to be home with Gracie, in his warm bed and have his mother and father tuck him in at night, to hear their voice every day and not know about the war. Ignorance surely is bliss.

But he couldn't have that, not here in Hogsmeade. Malcom hardly ever came to visit, too proud to be seen with his little brother or something, and it aggravated him as much as it did his sister. Minerva held his hand as they walked to Honeydukes, nevertheless, his eyes expressed what he was feeling quite easily.

"I'm really sorry, Cayden. I wanted to tell you in person that I wouldn't make it, but there wasn't an option."

"I know, Minvey, there's a curfew and you can't be out here after dinner." He was a smart boy, piecing together things like that wasn't something most eight year old boys could entirely grasp in concept yet. He glanced at her cheek, which hadn't fully healed yet as Professor Merrythought left as a '_reminder of what can cost you'_ lesson. Poppy had asked to heal it herself, but had been refused.

"What _did _you do yesterday? Wrestle a bunch of werewolves?" the little boy asked as they entered the shop.

Minerva laughed. "You could say that, however, it'd be more accurate to say that I had advanced dueling practice with Professor Merrythought."

She ordered their pancakes, and they sat down.

"But why do you need practice? You're already the best!"

His sister smiled. "While I won't dispute your claim, it never hurts to train more..." She frowned. "Actually, I take that back, in this case it can."

Cayden giggled, his beautiful eyes returning to their gleeful, shining personality. Unfortunately, it was cut short. A loud stomp in the ground cause the shop to tremor.

"What is blazes is goin' on here?" Mrs Flumes shouted. Minerva didn't wait to find out. The training yesterday had changed her. In an instant, her wand was out and before she knew it, her legs were carrying her out the door to investigate. There wasn't much to infer, however, as Rubeus Hagrid's tall, muscular frame to the west did it all. But the hairs on her neck stood up, and she got the intuition that she should transform. The moment she did, Minerva knew why.

**Tom Riddle.**

She could smell his snake-like self and nearly vomited as she sensed his intentions. She knew he was bad news and always meant harm when around her, but as her Animagus it all made sense. He was manipulating everyone around him- or in Minerva's case, trying to. She hadn't realized it yet, but her claws were already out.

"Why, 'yer a bloody no good coward, yeh know dat?" the tall wizard bellowed. "A ruddy, rotten wizard!"

"Yes, yes, it's all said and done, yet, you haven't done anything about it. Shame." His eyes were taunting, dancing with glee.

_Poor Hagrid..._ she thought. Suddenly, she got a whiff of air that made her almost hiss. A dog. No, a puppy. _But a dog, nevertheless._

"I don't do nothin' 'bout yeh 'cause I very well know if I do, I'll get in trouble! Yer know dat Riddle, and yet just tryin' ter gloat at me!"

Riddle softly smirked- the evil, cynical smirk that made Minerva want to slap him senseless, "Now your getting into the game, Hagrid. You see, I'm sure Dumbledore and the headmaster wouldn't agree to let that filthy dog-"

"Fang ain't filthy! I just cleaned him!" Her tail swished back and fourth, quite contend to be away from the dog, though part of her wanted to just jump in and claw at Riddle with everything she had.

"Shut up you overgrow mountaintop."

Minerva lost it, and it was probably a good thing she did too. Hagrid nearly dropped little Fang to beat Riddle in his own defence, but upon seeing a grey tabby cat flying at Riddle, clawing at his wand arm and then his side, made him stop in amazement.

Riddle screamed, not a high pitched one of surrender and pain mind you, he still had his damn dignity- but one of surprise, shock and menacing hatred. He flung her away, sent her through the air.

"Minvey!"

She felt herself floating in the air, then being gently cradled in her little brother's arms. Thankfully, he held her right and didn't leave her back legs or bum hanging down uncomfortably.

"Is that your cat?" the manipulative Slytherin seethed, he wrapped his cloak around the wounds.

"Y-yes, she is! You'd be best leave her alone!"

Minerva hissed in agreement. There were moments that she loved to be a cat, mainly so she could get away with little things like that.

Riddle laughed. "Oh, you are a stupid little Mudblood aren't-"

"Don't call my brother that, Tom!" Minerva couldn't believe her ears, or here eyes, when she saw Malcom running down the hill, his blue, silver and bronze Ravenclaw tie loose around his neck and wand out in hand to defend his family. Pride like no other swelled in her chest. _It's about time he came to his senses!_

"I suggest you step away, you know you're beaten. Three testimonies against you isn't how you operate, is it?" Malcom shouted, pointing his wand at his opponent.

Riddle growled and very nearly hissed, as he sauntered towards Malcom. "If you _ever_ decide to want to be with _us_ again, I will personally see to it that you don't return to class the next day."

"Now you're making threats? That's unlike you, Tom, you usually just imply things. I suggest you leave, I've made up my mind and don't plan on changing it."

"You will regret that."

"Maybe," the Ravenclaw's eyes glared confidently, "but I highly doubt it. My sister will be a prefect next year, so watch your back or you'll get detentions with Mr Pringgle and I know how much you despise him."

The Slytherin snarled again, lower this time, then fled the scene. Malcom smirked with mischief.

"That felt good, not sure what it'll do in the end, but it felt good," he muttered to himself then looked at his brother. "Are you all right Cayden? What about you, Hagrid?" Both boys nodded. "Good, good, and where did you get that cat, brother?"

"She's not a-" Minerva sank her claws into his skin just enough for a hint, "Ah...er, she's not mine."

Malcom rolled his perfect green eyes. "Right."

Hagrid stepped forward with a smile of kindness, "Thank you, McGonagall, it means loads to me, and I'm sure Fang appreciates it!"

The puppy barked in agreement and Hagrid outstretched his hand for a shake of understanding. Malcom hesitated moment then shook the hand, who's palm it's self was the size of his face.

"Just do me a favor, clean Fang more often." He smiled, indicating a bit of a joke, then turned towards his little brother. "What are you up to Cayden?"

"Well, Minvey and I were going to eat Chocolate Button pancakes at Honeydukes."

Minerva looked at Hagrid's confused face, having heard 'Minvey' being the name of the cat in his arms.

"Where is she?"

"Oh, she's around, I'm sure she'll meet us at the shop when we get there."

Malcom smiled. "Alright then, lets go see her then, shall we?"

Cayden couldn't have grinned more. He set the cat down, gave her a wink, then left with his brother, while saying farewell to the half-giant, "Bye-bye Hagrid!"

The Animagus cat swished her tail and waited for them to be a good distance away so Malcom couldn't hear her, then transformed. The tall wizard nearly jumped.

"Merlin's beard! H-how did yeh- where'd yeh learn ter do dat?" he blubbered in shock.

The dark haired witch smiled. "I'm an Animagus, Hagrid."

"Oh, I knew dat."

She chuckled, then grew serious once more. "Listen, Hagrid, if Riddle ever gives you trouble about Fang again, just go to Dumbledore- and if I do become a Prefect, then you can come to me as well. There's no shame in standing up for yourself against a bully like Riddle."

The half-Giant nodded with a smile. "T-thanks, Ma'am."

"Oh, and Hagrid, if you don't mind, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone I can transform into a cat."

"I won't, McGonagall, yeh have my word."

Somehow she knew she could trust him, dog person or not, he had a good heart. She gave him another smile, nodded in thanks, then left to join her brothers and those pancakes.

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><p><strong>As I promised, I included those Chocolate Button Pancakes! I even extended the story to fit those in there, and showing Hagrid finally having people who are willing to help him against his adversary was something that needed to be written before he gets expelled next year :( Poor Hagrid!<strong>

**Surely now thoughts are spinning about Merrythought- no pun intended lol  
>Up on my website (the link is on my profile), there is an insider about our dear Galatea, complete with Questions-&amp;-Answers from Chapter 5-15.<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed and please review!  
>~LinK<strong>


	17. Fearful Intuition

_**It's the story of your life, you're tearing out the page**_

_**New chapter on underway**_

_**The story of your life, you live it every day**_

_**You can run, you run**_

_**But you won't get away**_

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><p><strong>AN:**

~First off: a round of applause to **Em** and **Spin**. You ladies are so wonderful to work with! Speaking of betas, if anyone's noticed that the Home Page on my website is out of date, it's because I can't update it due to 'server error', yet I can update all other pages :( So I'm trying to get that fixed ASAP!

~Second (this truly can not be avoided as Spin caught it while I was beginning to figure it out): I _somehow_ managed to mix-match Malfoy's first name from 'Abraxas' with 'Anguis'... even though there is no such name in the Harry Potter word! I do not know how it happened and accept full responsibility. That being said, I have fixed our dearly beloved Grandpapy Malfoy's name in the previous chapters.

~Third... well, there is no third. Enjoy everyone! :D

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><p><strong>Chapter 16 - Fearful Intuition<strong>

**August 26th, 1941:**

Minerva McGonagall could hardly believe she had little less than a week until her Fifth Year began. Training with Professor Merrythought, helping in Hogsmeade and maintaining her friendships had kept the witch extremely busy. She had loved every moment of it, but if there was one thing she missed over the summer, it was Professor Dumbledore. After her first lesson with Galatea, the witch hadn't seen nor heard from him since. Professor Merrythought had tried to make it quite clear that he was visiting family and that he'd specifically given her permission to keep the sword of Godric Gryffindor, but Minerva wasn't at all convinced by the notion that her Transfiguration professor was simply relaxing somewhere while the war continued to rage on.

She'd come to really admire the man over the years; his unmatched intelligence, the reputation he held in the wizarding world and yet, despite all this, he was sympathetic and understanding. It took Minerva a while- including several long nights of talking with the girls, which they did nearly twice a week -to realize that she was indeed worried for him. Part of her wondered if she was over-reacting; Dumbledore was a teacher after all, and she his student, but nevertheless the feeling lingered. The witch also wondered why she was increasingly able to detect unusual, or off-key tension in certain situations. She utterly refused to accept the possibility that it was a form of Divination, so she settled on the possibility of Avrenim using her subconscious to detect a need in times of distress or anxiety. The witch could easily agree that the concept was rather far-fetched, but it was far more acceptable than the '_Inner Eye_' nonsense.

However, this morning was different and she noticed it the moment she woke up. The tense fog in her mind was gone and she felt relatively happy for the first time in weeks. Even Mico could tell there was something different- though it could be that he was purely sensing his mistress's emotional turn. Minerva McGonagall was not one to rush in the mornings, especially during the summer, yet she found herself hurrying to get dressed, brush out her long hair - which nearly reached her waist now -and wrap it into a bun.

"Goodness, Min! Slow down or you'll end up exciting Rola, and I truly have the worst headache to cope with her right now." Poppy rubbed her temples. Nearly a month ago, Xavier had finally asked to court the hawk-eyed girl, and while they were extremely happy for their sister, she was typically very bubbly when she awoke or when they were all trying to sleep - in other words, any time she was away from him. "Besides, it's still summer. What in Merlin's name are you getting ready for at this time of day?"

Minerva shrugged, not entirely sure how to explain everything. "I just have a feeling..."

"Oh dear," Augusta groaned from her bed. "You and your bloody feelings. Honestly, a witch can't get a decent night's sleep with all this going on. Go back to bed, Minnie." With that, she rolled over and pulled a pillow over her head, a light snore sounding almost immediately.

The dark haired witch rolled her eyes and murmured, "Good morning to you too, Gusta", then left the dormitory in a rush. She decided against transforming into her Animagus, in fact she had been resisting the urge to do so ever since she caught Riddle lurking around her several times after the incident with Hagrid nearly two months ago. Why he was taking an interest in her Minerva didn't know, and would rather keep it that way.

When she slid into the Great Hall only a few select students and members of staff were present, and to her great delight, Professor Albus Dumbledore was amongst them. For a moment she was thrilled he was back, but that soon faded upon seeing how he carried himself. His shoulders were hunched and his lips were thinned with a somber expression she recognized as grief. It was this last realization which compelled her to walk across the room, straight past the Gryffindor table and up to where he was sitting.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

He looked up from his letter. The moment his eyes connected with hers, a small smile appeared on his face, "Good morning, Miss McGonagall. Can I help you with something?"

"No, Sir. I just wanted to ask how you are. You've been gone for most of the Summer and I... Well, to be honest, I missed you, considering I'm accustomed to seeing your face every day, and being at Hogwarts doesn't help much."

"I am fine, Miss McGonagall, and I thank you for your concern. Yet, I hear it is you who I should be worried about."

Minerva could feel a slight blush rising upon her cheeks from hearing his concern. When she opened her mouth to reply, Dumbledore held up his hand then waved it discreetly to the left, silently asking for her to follow him. Minerva obeyed without protest and trailed with him out of the Great Hall. Her professor motioned for the door to open and he stepped into the corridor, quickly closing the door behind them both. She looked up at him, her sparkling emerald eyes gazing into his with concerned curiosity. Albus took a step back, suddenly aware of how close he was to her in the small hallway. Her eyes had a tendency of suspending his thoughts, though this time it was a more severe reaction. Dumbledore took a mental note of it then filed it away for later pondering.

"I apologize for the slight obscurity, but I didn't wish for anyone to overhear our conversation."

"Yes, of course," she frowned in self disappointment. "I should have thought about that, Professor."

"It's not your fault, McGonagall, I'm the one who brought it up." He looked to the side, making sure no one was nearby before continuing, "Speaking of your training, I've been meaning to ask how you've been coping with Professor Merrythought's teaching methods. I heard that you suffered a few injuries, minor bruising here and there, and in addiction, your lovely hair was lopped off."

Again, Minerva blushed, embarrassed once more by his concern, before deflecting his comments with a question of her own. "Do you think her methods are unorthodox, Sir?"

Professor Dumbledore snorted in bitter amusement. "To be frank, McGonagall, our two years of lessons themselves are technically _'unorthodox'_." He shook his head and continued, "But to answer your question, I do believe her methods to be harsh. For this reason, I want you to know that if a lesson becomes too heated, you are free to leave and come to my office immediately."

The green eyed witch gently nodded her head. "I understand, Sir, although I don't think that will be a problem. Galatea's lessons have toned down a bit compared to the first one. We've mostly been working on technique, battle styles and honing reflexes since then."

The professor smiled upon hearing his student speak Merrythought's Christian name. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Sir, did you really give permission for me to use Godric Gryffindor's sword?" Dumbledore nodded. "Forgive me for doubting, or asking, but why? It's an illustrious relic that ought be preserved within-"

"Not at the expense that you could possibly be killed by not using it. I'd loan you Fawkes- if he were mine to give -and if I thought he would help you in the war. I mean it, my dear, if there is anything that you might need in order for you to succeed, then please let me know. I will personally go out of my way to find it for you."

Minerva crossed her arms, tensed her shoulders and looked away with conflicted feelings. Although she was grateful that Dumbledore felt so compelled to aid her, something didn't add up to her and she felt like screaming. _Why am I so important? Why do you want me to succeed so badly? Why do you care about me so much?_ She was special, and she knew it, but it wasn't a reason to prepare her for war at such a young age... _was it?_

Unsurprisingly, Professor Dumbledore could sense her agitation. He cleared his throat, deciding it would be best to change the topic.

"There is one other thing I wish to talk with you about, McGonagall," he said in a slightly more professional tone. "I know this won't come as a surprise to you, but I'm contemplating whether to make you a Prefect. However, I'm unsure how you will cope with the extra duties and responsibilities along with your eleven classes, Quidditch, Animagus Studies _and_ your extra training."

The witch nodded, uttering a small laugh as she did. She should have thought about this beforehand.

"I'll drop History and Astronomy when I get my OWLs, and I suppose I could stop taking Arithmacy this year, considering it's not important to my studies or future work. Would that be alright, Professor?"

Dumbledore smiled briefly then nodded. "That will do, McGonagall, and if for any reason you believe you're being over worked, let me know and I'll request that your extra homework be put to an end in your electives."

It would be no good to protest his point, she knew that, so she kept silent and bobbed her head in agreement.

"Is there anything else you wish to speak about?" the wizard asked.

The witch spoke quietly, her eyes averting his gaze, "You weren't out in the war this summer, were you, Sir? I know I'm a mere student and have no business in what you do, or where you are, but after all you've done for me I just want to make sure you're alright." Only when she finished her question did she look up at him again, her captivating green eyes filled with genuine concern he couldn't deny.

"It's quite alright McGonagall, and I appreciate your concern," he added with a soft, sad smile. If there was one thing he appreciated about her, it was her honesty. "I have no doubt that Professor Merrythought told you I was away on family matters."

"She did, Professor."

"And from your tone, I surmise that you don't believe her."

The witch shrugged. "I trust that she told me what I _should_ believe for my sake, although I've never been very good at such things, have I?"

Dumbledore chuckled in agreement. "No, you most certainly have not." He paused for a moment and licked his lips. "That being said, McGonagall, Professor Merrythought was partially right, my original absence was for family grievances, although that quickly turned into taking advantage of the Minister being present."

"The Minister? What did Orpington want?"

"Oh she didn't want anything, rather it was regarding something I wanted. You see, I've been meaning to speak with her for some time about the possibility of Professor Merrythought, or myself, conducting Occlumency and Legilimency lessons here at Hogwarts."

Minerva didn't bother to ask, she knew the lessons were intended for her and for once she was irritated about having no say in her own training. She spoke diplomatically, refusing to allow her emotions to possibly spark something she might later regret with her professor, "I take it that she couldn't refuse?"

"No," he answered a bit quicker than the witch would have liked. "Evangeline more definitely could not refuse, especially when it comes to you. I should tell you that I have no intention of starting these lessons until next year. There's no need to rush into them, besides you'll have more time available then I'm sure."

"Of course... Sir, is it really necessary for me to learn Legilimency?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is, at least the fundamentals. I can understand not wanting to learn more than that, believe me." He paused, momentarily staring at a point just over her shoulder before continuing in a much softer voice. "Besides, you still have a choice in all of this. We're not forcing you into anything."

_Do I, Professor? Do I really have a choice?_ Minerva closed her eyes and bit her tongue to prevent herself from speaking such thoughts. "Thank you, Professor. I really should be going now, but it's good to see you again."

"And you, McGonagall. Oh, and please deliver this to Miss Pomfrey, I'm sure she'll be delighted to read it." He handed her two envelopes, one written to Poppy and the other to herself. Their prefect letters.

**October 27th, 1941:**

Professor Merrythought didn't have to wait long for Minerva to arrive at the Room of Requirement that morning. The girl always seemed to arrive on time, whether it was by using the Time Turner or not. Nearly two months had gone by since the start of term and Minerva seemed to be handling the extra duties of her position as a Prefect with as much ease as could be expected of someone with her particular circumstances. It was a good thing that she had dropped Arithmancy though, or she most definitely wouldn't have been able to cope with her schedule.

Galatea knew the girl was under a lot of pressure and subsequently decreased the length of their lessons, but that didn't mean she lowered the intensity of the training as well. Minerva was good. More than 'good' some would say, especially with mistakes becoming a rarity for her now, and it was apparent that her former tendency to over-think a situation within battle was waning. The girl focused on reflex, instinct and sheer will, however, even the instructor knew war did not simply involve knights of stone and now was the most opportune moment to change that. The lessons needed to advance; the focus needed to be turned around and introduce a different subject that would be very important to Minerva's future survival; mastering her fear.

When the green-eyed Gryffindor entered the Room of Requirement, she looked rather irritated and a bit tired, the Time Turner's unfortunate effects playing havoc with her body clock. Using it too much and for too long tended to cause irrational emotions to surface.

"Everything alright, dear?"

Minerva didn't look at her professor as she leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. "Not entirely. Maybe it's the bloody time device, I don't know, but for the past week I have seriously begun to doubt how my involvement could help anyone in the this war. I know how bad things are out there. M.E.A.R. needs people and support, or we'll begin to lose our defences. We've lost France, the Americans still won't get involved- despite the constant pleading from hundreds of countries -and the Soviets aren't entirely trustworthy either. Aurors are needed, and natural talent is needed too and I know I have that, but..." she sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm debating this, especially since it's already been decided that I will become an Auror."

"Minerva, nothing has been decided yet. You do not _have_ to do this, you do not _have_ to become an Auror. No one is forcing you into this war; after finishing school you could get a job in _'Transfiguration Today'_ with a simple snap of your fingers."

The Gryffindor clicked her tongue. "It's amusing that you say that, Galatea. I must ask, do you think that's what Màthair would want me to do? Research instead of dying on the battlefield?"

"Any parent would, my dear. No one wants their child involved in war," the woman sighed, "but you are correct."

"Well, I hate to disappoint."

"So you've decided then?"

Minerva shrugged with a small smile. "I haven't changed my current plans."

"Is there nothing I can say that would change your mind?"

Minerva placed her hand on the dagger's hilt and unsheathed it, revealing the deadly, polished steel. The blade extended and the green-eyed witch gently ran her fingers along the length. "I don't think I truly possess a choice in the matter, Galatea. The war needs to be stopped, and if it doesn't by the time I enter the Auror program, then I must commit myself to ending it, shouldn't I?"

"Minerva, war is a heavy burden to bear..."

"But what does it matter? There are innocent people out there being slaughtered, and living with the aftermath is a small price to pay for the people who will fight for it. Isn't that what you've been trying to tell me, Galatea? Or have I been interpreting you incorrectly all along?"

"No, you are correct," she sighed deeply then glanced at the Gryffindor. "However, I feel responsible for you, and you have to be absolutely positive that this is what you want because there is no going back after you board the train, Minerva."

The witch's green eyes darkened with irritation. "I'm already on that train, Galatea."

"Very well, dear child," Professor Merrythought smiled for a moment before letting her stern mask once again engulf her features; her pale blue eyes became fierce, and her voice razor sharp, "we shall begin. If you pass this test, then I will never question your decisions regarding the future again."

Minerva could feel her eyes widening slightly upon the abrupt change in her Professor. She could feel a hint of fear creeping into her mind seeing the merciless woman in front of her. _I truly don't know her at all..._

A sudden whistle of wind and a soft screech caught her attention and forced all thoughts to disappear from her mind as she spun around, firing a stunner at the creature sailing towards her. She expected to feel and hear the spell take some sort of effect however, the haunting scream dissolve and did the supposed creature into a thick black fog.

_What the bloody hell was that?_

"I told you war was a burden; that it is relentless and unforgiving. It was during your lessons with the statues that I originally meant to work on this particular aspect, but you conquered it within your first lesson and that was not what I had expected. Instead, you turned it around, honing your reflexes and removing thoughts from your actions, so I am not complaining." Merrythought's voice echoed around the room. Before it seemed like a trick, but this time it was far less emotional- if that was even possible. "Are you prepared, Minerva, to face your fear from within?"

The witch didn't answer, she was fighting the tingling sense in the back of her mind that told her to escape. She had to stand strong.

"This time we have two rules. First, you will not be physically harmed, so put your sword away." The witch obeyed. "Secondly, if you run or show any sign of attempting to flee, the lesson will end and you will have failed. Do you understand?" Minerva nodded her head and Galatea huffed in an odd mix of emotions. "Very well..."

The shrieking creature the Gryffindor had previous tried to fight returned, but this time with friends. She could feel them attempting to terrorize her mind, but she resisted. Instantly their voices changed, whispering words, phrases that were not part of any language on this Earth. Their conjoined voices sounded like Tom Riddle; his sharp, cold voice hissing at her, filling her mind with memories that only made her hate the boy rather than fear him. As if noticing their effect, the spectral voices changed again, whispering their ghostly words until she suddenly recognized them to be none other than the infamous Gellert Grindelwald. She gasped, even wavered a little, but held strong while his voice began whispering revolting words of the torturous methods he used on his victims.

It was after nearly fifteen minutes of his malicious speech that the voices gave up and changed again, but the green-eyed witch would have gladly taken the previous, any day. This voice made her skin crawl, as she realized it was Tradisi's, the estranged grandmother that Minerva deeply wished she'd never meet. What's more, the tone of her voice was sickening, forcing her to remember the day that Minerva wished could be erased permanently from memory. She could only bear it for so long until she wanted to scream, and scream she did.

"Stop it! Stop it, Galatea! Leave her out of this!" she demanded fiercely, but she knew that a hint a fear could also be detected and then automatically knew she would not be taken seriously.

"You are afraid of a dead woman, Minerva? That _is_ very surprising."

The whispers began forming into more of a coherent language, uttering several words about death, murder and failure. Minerva desperately wanted to turn around and fire some curse at the woman, but she knew she wasn't truly there. Tradisi was dead, but she was hearing the words that seemed all to familiar to what she had experienced.

"Stop it! You don't know what she did!"

"No, child, I think it is _you_ who doesn't know all she did."

"I meant what she did to _me_, Galatea! Please, stop this madness!" She heard the beings whisper about her being pathetically weak-minded, when suddenly she felt her magic spark.

_Fine, if she's not going to end this, then I will. _

Igniting her instinctual magic, it pulsed in her hands before Minerva made it spread all around the room with just a single thought. The whispers drained away, forcing the room into a deathly silence that seemed to ring in Minerva's ears.

"You were not supposed to do that."

"It wasn't one the rules, was it, Galatea?" Minerva spat angrily, refusing to look at the woman as she appeared from the shadows.

"Minerva-"

The young witch cut her off, shouting resolutely, "I _never _want that _witch _in my lessons again!" Her arms were shaking from the mental impact of trying to control her emotions.

"Minerva, you will have to face her eventually, your fear must be-"

"Enough!" she shouted, her eyes red with the inability to produce tears. "You don't know what she did, you don't understand the things she said! I know she's dead, but it doesn't matter because I was twelve when she said them. Do not for one second think that I don't know that I'm terrified of her. _You-do-not-understand!"_

Galatea's eyes went from furious disappointment to a soft, saddened expression in a matter of seconds, like a caged animal hearing a dying child's cry. "No, you are right, I do not understand." The green-eyed witch looked down and started to walk away, when her Professor spoke up again, "Minerva, wait. I sincerely believe we should talk about this, for your sake as well as my own."

Had those words not been said in a tone that hinted at the true extent of love Professor Merrythought held for the Gryffindor witch, Minerva wouldn't have stopped in her tracks.

"I don't want to..." she whispered. Galatea placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, silently asking her to turn around. She obeyed the plea, then looked up at her professor with such solemn eyes that it nearly made the woman's heart break.

"You need not speak, darling. Just show me the memory, make me understand why you fear the woman so. Can you do that?"

Yes, Minerva could most definitely do that. She was tired of keeping everything to herself, tired of Galatea not knowing why she couldn't trust Isobel like she should, had she not heard those dreadful words come from her mouth. The witch nodded and met the woman's eyes again, feeling her warm fingers gently pressing against her temples.

"All you need to do is relax, darling, and remember. _Legilimens!"_

The woman was gentle with entering Minerva's mind, unlike what was said within the Defence Against the Dark Arts text books, probably due to the fact that Minerva was allowing her to enter. It felt odd. More than odd, a bit creepy actually, but the Gryffindor forced those thoughts away and focused on the memory she wished could be erased. She showed the elder witch everything, reliving the details as if she was still that terrified twelve year old. Those same words that stung her heart from before were replayed: Tradisi's obvious hatred towards her for being accepted into Gryffindor, the threat, the offer and the instant the girl's heart broke once and for all with Isobel's acceptance.

Galatea brought them back to reality rather abruptly, or at least it felt abrupt to Minerva. She could still feel the fear and the hatred directed towards the twelve year old girl lingering in her mind while Tradisi and Isobel's words rang through her head. Feeling her hands trembling without control, the elder witch removed them from Minerva's face and took a few steps back. The room felt like it was suffocating her, she couldn't breathe, the shock that this beloved girl had heard such things from her own family was sinking in, fast and hard. Only when she could taste the blood in her mouth did she realize that she had bitten her tongue to prevent her from cursing at Isobel, Tradisi and the rest of the world. For the first time she had seen what the poor girl had gone though, and despite knowing the reason behind the woman's action, Galatea could not forgive Isobel for what she had done to the child.

Feeling tears beginning to sting her eyes, she gently wrapped Minerva up in her arms, praying the Gryffindor wouldn't mind. So, this was the real reason Minerva was so timid with around any woman who displayed even the slightest act of secrecy, and why she doubted all of those who made decisions in her life; she'd lost the trust in her own mother at a very young age. The knowledge of this made Galatea absolutely furious at Isobel; she was going to have a serious talk with the woman later on.

Having Minerva relaxed in her arms was something the elder witch didn't dare hope to happen so soon, but here she was, the beautiful, emerald-eyed witch she'd come to adore and love from afar. It was hard to imagine that the girl could potentially become the deadly assassin the world needed her to be.

"I am so sorry, darling," Galatea said slowly, calmly and with a love Minerva still did not understand, but she didn't need to anymore. "Never will I bring _her_ up again like that, not unless you think you are ready."

"Thank you, Galatea, but before I leave Hogwarts I think it would be wise to have this fixed. If war is as unforgivable as you've described, then I must."

The woman hushed the Gryffindor silent. "You need not think about that right now, dear." She waited a while, partially enjoying the moment before she sighed, suddenly realizing the time. "Goodness, it's nearly nine already. Minerva, will you be alright? I mean truly, this can not be an easy memory for you to deal with."

"It's not," the girl said quietly, "but I've learned to live with it, and I always have the girls to help me."

This wasn't quite enough to convince Galatea to let the her go though- not while she was listening to her maternal side anyway. However, the teacher in her knew Minerva would be just fine and didn't need her help, considering that she'd grieved about it before. The 'incident' had occurred nearly four years ago. It would sting upon remembering it again in such detail, of course, but it was nothing that Minerva hadn't dealt with already. Yes, she'd be just fine, and even more so after a few open-hearted conversations with her friends.

The woman took a step back and looked into the girl's beautiful green eyes as she spoke again, "Alright, you had better go then. Just remember, my door is always open, day and night- no matter the hour."

Minerva nodded. "I will, thank you, Galatea."

Watching the Fifth Year prefect walk away on this occasion was harder than it had been for a very long time. Professor Merrythought stayed in the Room of Requirement for a while, pondering over the unfortunate memory she'd witnessed and the actions she could- and _should _-take. After failing to find a solution after an hour or so, she finally left, but not without being spotted by her auburn-haired colleague.

"I didn't expect to see you here so late, Galatea."

"Nor did I." She crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder against the exterior wall, letting out a small sigh.

"Is something wrong, my friend?"

"Yes, something is seriously wrong. I should have taken Minerva and kept her when I had the chance, Albus. I would have spared her so much pain, so much needless suffering."

"Keep her away from Isobel? That's very unlike you to say such a thing."

"The devil with Isobel!" Galatea lashed out, her anger boiling to the surface. She hadn't expressed herself in such a manor in many years. "She should never go off saying things in her own house that her daughter could overhear- especially words that could shatter trust! Then to show no comfort or perhaps even a little compassion to her shaken, twelve year old daughter...? _Did I teach her __**nothing?**_ Does she know _nothing_ of the human heart; of love or the utmost importance of keeping those you care about close to you?"

Galatea buried her face in her hands and let out a distressed groan, her greying hair now in complete disarray.

Albus patted her shoulder then gave it a squeeze. "Try not to think of what you could have, or should have done. Think of what you can do _now."_

Galatea removed her hands, looked into the wizard's sapphire eyes and nodded. He had a tendency of saying exactly what she needed to hear to carry on.

"Well then, I am going to my rooms, have a nice cup of tea, then possibly have a very long and unpleasant conversation with Isobel."

"Sounds like a plan if ever I heard one."

**October 31st, 1941:**

"This is Halloween, this is Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween!" Peeves sang with pure mischief in his voice. He was up to no good, that much was obvious. Because it was Friday, the Headmaster lifted the curfew until ten so the students and staff of Hogwarts could enjoy fireworks over the lake.

"It will be a nice way to relax." Minerva said, thinking out loud.

Pomona snorted. "Merlin knows you could use it Min. You've been very tense these past few days."

"You're telling me!" Xavier said, his hand grabbing hold of Rolanda's. "Her game's been off during training this week, lost the Snitch nearly three times."

Rolanda's glare was harsher than her tone, "Oh lay off you two, she has enough stress to deal with as it is."

"Well then, prepare for another dose." Poppy said cryptically as she ran up to them with a piece of parchment. "Min, Rola, you might want to look at this."

As usual, it wasn't just Rolanda and Minerva that crowded around the item of interest that Poppy placed on the table. It was a message, and one that was indeed not private anymore with the entire group reading it..

_I haven't forgotten  
>A.M.<em>

"A.M.? What bloody bugger goes by the acronym for morning?"

"One guess," Rolanda smirked and chuckled. "Abraxas Malfoy has a grudge he'd like to get rid of."

"Well, he isn't doing a bloody thing to you two. If he does, there will be some serious unpleasantness." Xavier kissed her cheek, dissolving a bit of his bitter tone, "He's not much of match anyway, so I'm not too worried."

Minerva wished she felt the same. Nothing good ever came out of Halloween, especially when it dealt with magic, and she had an awful feeling that something was indeed going to happen tonight. She glanced at Poppy who gave her a look of equal concern.

Augusta noticed the dark haired witch's glum silence and gently shook her arm. "Come on, Min, cheer up would you? We don't have any classes with them."

"That's not what I'm worried about. I think he's going to try something afterwards."

"All I know is that I'm looking forward to the show. Xavier, you haven't said a word about it!" Pomona said excitedly.

The wizard beamed. "Nope, me and the three other Quidditch Captains are sworn to secrecy. No one is to know about the plans," his eyes connected with Rolanda, "not even my dear Rola."

Rolanda snorted. "Oh please, now you're just flirting."

* * *

><p>When lessons finally ended for the day, Minerva was almost wishing that Rolanda wasn't so keen on going to the fireworks show. She couldn't blame her of course, not when Xavier had devoted so much time and effort to it, and she couldn't just leave her sister to face what ever Malfoy was planning on her own. She'd received several looks from him and his goons during lunch and in the corridors. They were taunting, devilish and altogether far too happy for her taste. <em>Something<em> was up, and she only wished Rolanda would share her caution. In addiction to her wand, Minerva made sure to grab her sword before leaving the common room.

"You don't really think you'll need that, do you?" Augusta asked, waiting at the door for her.

"Merlin, I hope not, but you can never be too careful."

The blonde haired witch smiled. "You know, if this does escalate like you think, one good thing might come out of it."

The dark haired witch stopped, looking at her friend with a baffled expression. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for starters, we'll be able to see what Merrythought and Dumbledore have been teaching you all these years."

Minerva's eyes widened. There was a reason she never showed them _anything,_ nor talk about it very often. "I truly hope you don't, Gusta. Those skills belong on the battlefield."

"Which is why I think it's so fascinating, that you're able to learn that sort of thing!"

The dark haired witch snorted and rolled her eyes, partially amused but also disapproving of the comment. "Just don't lose sight of Rola."

"How long are you two going to stay up there and chatter? Come on, or we'll be late!" Rolanda shouted from below. With a hint of a smile, the two Gryffindor girls joined the rest of the group. They got down to the grounds right on time, only having to wait ten minutes before the show began.

"May I have your attention, please?" Headmaster Dippet called to the crowd, his wand pressed to his throat to amplify his voice. When the excited chattering ceased, he continued. "Thank you. Now, I'd like to begin by welcoming everyone to the first Halloween celebration night to be conducted by our four wonderful and extremely talented Quidditch Captains. They've worked very hard to put together this special treat for us all, and as a reminder that even though we are divided into separate Houses, we are still in union under one school. Enjoy."

Everyone applauded, looking up into the sky for the first sign of brilliant flashing lights - everyone that was, but Minerva. The other girls were beginning to think she was just paranoid, even Poppy.

The first spark was small, hardly detectable, but then suddenly more sparks began surrounding that one in a spiraling circle. Several loud, colorful and bright explosions began steadily increasing the pace, captivating the audience as they changed shapes from pumpkins with different facial expression to ghouls, goblins and werewolves. It was wildly entertaining, with new fireworks going off nearly every five seconds, but with all the noise and people jumping with excitement, Minerva found it very agitating. She couldn't keep track of Malfoy and his gang. One moment they were in her sights, about fifty feet away, but then they were gone with a glance towards their direction that made Minerva shudder. She drew her wand and kept it close by her side.

The show was nearing an end when she saw them again, during the big finale when just about everyone was looking up at the sky, clapping in awe of the spectacle. There was an icy tap on her shoulder that made her spin around with her wand ready to fire, but her hand was caught at the wrist.

"Easy now, McGonagall," Malfoy hissed in her ear. Minerva's free hand immediately went to the sheathed dagger by instinct and she had to physically stop herself from pulling it from the case by gripping her sleeve until her knuckles were white from the strain. "We don't want something _unpleasant_ to happen in front of the crowd, do we?"

_Poppy, Rola, for Merlin's sake, turn around!_ The witch screamed inside her head. She saw the two witches immediately tear themselves from the show and turn around to face her and the attacker.

"Let her go, Malfoy!" Rolanda hissed, her wand twitching in her hand.

"I'm not doing anything to harm her, not yet." His eyes twinkled with a threat as he began whispering into Minerva's ear again, "I've a proposition for you, filthy half-blood." She jerked at the jab, causing Abraxas' grip on her wrist to tighten painfully. "Meet me and my gang near the Forbidden Forest at ten, you can bring along four others, not that it will matter, of course. Make sure your hawk-eyed freak is with you."

Minerva stated at Rolanda, silently pleading her to not take the bait. To her immense relief, she didn't.

"And if I refuse?" the green-eyed witch coyly responded.

"Then I'll let everyone know what you and Professor Merrythought have been up to, and I've got proof that it's not in the curriculum. You- and your _dear_ professor -could get kicked out of Hogwarts for what she's training you to do."

"Liar," Pomona hissed, "Merrythought is a good woman and she would never-"

"I wasn't talking to you, Sprout-puff!" he seethed harshly. "Now, _McGonagall,_ will you comply or not?"

"No," Minerva stated calmly, "and you would do well to back down from your challenge. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Actually, I do." The pure-blood snake was smug in his comment, sly and pompous, giving Minerva the urge to just shake him senseless. "I know you have the sword of Godric Gryffindor and have been slaying statues with it. Tom Riddle really is a sly snake, isn't he?"

"I still won't do it. I won't be bribed into your stupid, pathetic games, Malfoy. I know your game. You want your honor back from being humiliated infront-"

Suddenly, the Slytherin pressed a knife against her wrist and Minerva instantly went silent as he hissed in her ear, "You're just like your mother, you know that? A Muggle loving-"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Rolanda shouted coldly and flicked her wand. "_Flipendo!"_

Minerva suddenly felt the knife's edge scraping against her skin, cutting it as he was tossed backwards. Poppy and Pomona quickly grabbed her, pulling her towards them. Hot red liquid began trickling down her arm and the rust-colored hair witch silently healed it with a subtle flick of her wand. It was moments like these that Minerva was eternally grateful that Poppy was training with Madam Nurix.

Thankfully, Rolanda did not advance towards the arrogant snake. She stayed in place, her eyes burning like the fire in the night sky as fireworks continued to spark on and off as she spoke again, "Take your party and leave! We'll be at the Forbidden Forest in ten minutes."

Malfoy smirked, his eyes glaring at them with a hatred that made Minerva shiver.

"Rola, what are you doing? They want us to go there, they have something planned!" she hissed at the reckless girl after Malfoy finally turned around and vanished into the crowd.

"I don't care, Min. I'm tired of them stepping on us."

"Besides, he pulled a knife on you!" Augusta pointed out angrily. "I have to agree with Rola, it's time to settle this."

"We'll get caught, possibly expelled, and I can't do that." Minerva glared at them with a cold, stern, and demanding nature.

"Nor can I," Poppy chimed in, agreeing with her sister. "You all need to get your heads on straight. This is a silly little game they're trying to pull, not some test of honor!"

"Minerva, you heard what he said, he threatened to expose your training," Pomona said quietly. "If you don't show up, Merrythought will be-"

"What Malfoy doesn't know is that Galatea has permission from the Minister of Magic to train me. They have authority over Hogwarts during times of war or a state of emergency."

Rolanda shook her head. "Either way, I'm tired of him and his gang. It's time to teach them a lesson. Come on Gusta, Mona. With this crowd it'll take us every bit of ten minutes to get near the forest, we'll have to leave now."

The two prefects stayed behind, watching the other three girls leave.

"Min, if Malfoy said to bring four others, that means he'll have his entire gang with him. Lestrange, Avery, Black, Rosier, Mulcibler and probably Nott. Their fathers are all in the Anhänger and possibly the Untergang as well." Poppy's honey glazed voice was coated in conflicted concern and fear for her sister and friends, "They'll be out numbered."

"I'm just as torn as you are, Poppy, but Rola was foolish to even cast a spell on him, let alone accept the bait."

"You could have done something you know, instead of just standing there."

Minerva shook her head. "I don't know if I could have, not without severely injuring him at least. I had to grip my sleeve so I wouldn't take out my weapon and assault him like he did me!" Her fists trembled just thinking about what would have happened if he had struggled. "If I go down there, Poppy, and if a duel breaks out, I'm afraid that I won't be able to stop myself from acting like I've been trained to do. You don't understand what that's like!"

"I'll stop you. Pomona, Augusta and Rolanda will stop you. Min, you've told us the dangers of your instinctual-bound mind from the beginning. You've taught us your weaknesses and we have our connection. It'll be alright."

Minerva sighed, then quickly began to walk down the path towards the Forbidden Forest. Poppy smiled, and joined the green-eyed witch. Together, they ran to meet up with the trio of girls, the long-forgotten fireworks still popping in the background.

* * *

><p><strong>I love writing RHXH fluff- or Rolavier! They're so cute and way to much fun to work with.<strong>

**Galatea! Need I say more? I know I have several of you readers hooked with her, what are your thought and feelings now? And on Isobel, for that matter! REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!  
><strong>

**Yes, I'm well aware that fireworks on Halloween isn't a common thing. However, we're at Hogwarts and since the kids don't trick-or-treat to professor's doors, fireworks are in order! **Aka: I needed a reason for them to be outside :D

**And whatever hell will reign now that I've brought a cliffhanger into this? Haha! And don't you start throwing daggers at me yet! You'll want to save them- ALL OF THEM -for later. Way later...  
>~LinK<strong>

**PS: I should probably give everyone a fair warning: I have a term paper coming up in the next two weeks. On top of that, it's due the day Mass Effect 3 enters the atmosphere and I'm beyond psyched to get my hands on my N7 Collectors Edition copy! Needless to say, I'll do my best to update when I can, however, I simply can not promise a schedule until things have settled.**


	18. Into the Inferno

_**It's the story of your life, you're tearing out the page**_

_**New chapter on underway**_

_**The story of your life, you live it every day**_

_**You can run, you run**_

_**But you won't get away**_

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><p><strong>AN:**

**Edit: So not only one email was sent out... but three? Also, the website's welcome page is now working again! :D  
><strong>

~Halloween really is bad luck in the world of Harry Potter it seems. "Troll in the dungeons!"; the Chamber of Secrets opens; Sirius Black scratches the Fat Lady out of her painting; Harry's name pops out of the Goblet of fire; and Lilly, James and Sir Nicholas were killed on this day.

~Good news: the chapter's on time! Between tea, highlighters, and laughs shared between my two wonderful betas and my self, it is done!

~Bad news: I am not expecting the next chapter to be on schedule, though I will sincerely try! I've already stated my reasons for the caution, but now that I've contracted whatever dreaded coughing bug that everyone in my family had... well, you get the picture lol!

~Any-who, enjoy the conclusion of the cliffhanger!

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><p><strong>Chapter 17 - Into the Inferno<strong>

**October 31st - November 1st, 1941:**

"So, have you decided to join the fun then?" Rolanda's golden eyes shined in the light of the full moon as the trio glanced up to see their two Gryffindor Prefects approaching.

"I'm still cross with you for doing this," Minerva pointed out sternly as she twirled her wand in annoyance.

"Where are those bloody Slytherins anyhow?" Augusta chimed in, sitting down on the frozen grass. "Did you two see them on your way down?"

Poppy crossed her arms and exhaled, her breath was easily seen in the frosty air. "No we didn't; we figured they were either already here, or they're playing with us."

"Which, seeing as they're not here yet, they are. Can we just go, please?" the green-eyed Gryffindor pleaded, directing her voice towards Rolanda, who answered Minerva with a shake of her head, allowing her stubborn, reckless nature overtake her.

"No, just give them a few more minutes."

"To do what?" Minerva shrieked in frustration. Her quick temper was now purposefully merging into her emotions in hope that the three witches would begin to see the fear in her eyes as she spoke. "Give them time to set up for their petty revenge? Rola, this is a very bad idea!"

Pomona began to fidget with her wand anxiously. "Min's got a point, Rola. Why aren't they here yet?"

Augusta hopped up the ground with a bit of flutter infused within her movements as she glared at the Hufflepuff. "You're not getting cold feet are you?"

"No, I just think Min's right. If those Slytherins weren't planning something they'd be here right now."

The blonde Gryffindor shrugged nonchalantly, her blue eyes shining with excitement. "I don't think it matters if they're planning anything. Malfoy's a joke at dueling, and Minnie's good enough to beat all of them on her own!"

"Stop it, Gusta, you know how Min operates," Poppy flatly stated, glaring coldly at her friend as she did. The girl really could be insensitive towards other people's feelings sometimes.

"But we haven't _seen _it, and I think it would be absolutely astonishing!"

"No, it would be terrifying. I could lop off your head with just a twitch of my hands, Gusta."

Finally Augusta seemed slightly terrified - whether it was because of how emotionally detached Minerva had become as she spoke her words, or the truth behind them, was uncertain.

"Where are they?" Rolanda huffed as she began pacing. The green-eyed witch was about to retort when she caught notice of movement in the distance and before she realized it, her wand was up.

"They're here," she breathed as if she was swearing, then realized the Slytherins were just standing there, laughing, not planning to come down at all. Minerva could barely make out the platinum blonde boy placing an object near his mouth when she took a step in front of Rolanda.

"Why aren't they-"

A loud, ear-piercing whistle - mimicking that of a high-pitched woman's shriek - came over them, forcing all the girls to their knees, even Minerva. The sound was painful, though short lived, and the moment it ceased was the moment the green-eyed witch was on her feet again, firing the _'Petrificus totalus tria!'_ in the direction it had come from. She had no idea if the curse captured any of the bloody snakes, for her attention turned towards the Forbidden Forest upon hearing several rustles amongst the dark, eerie trees. Something was moving in there, lurking, waiting for a chance to strike and her gut knew it wasn't good. None of the witches were given time to react when the creature emerged through the thick foliage, hearing the same similar screech that made her eardrums want to burst and it forced Minerva to her knees again. She tried to fight it, but even when the looming, fear-inspiring, black feathery creature with limestone colored bone swooped in and snatched Rolanda from the ground, she couldn't do anything but ride out the pain.

Finally, the deafening noise stopped. Finally, she was able to scream. Finally, she could hear her sister's desperately frantic and painful cries for help. The sound alone made Minerva want to force the whistle down Malfoy's throat.

_A banshee,_ Minerva nearly screamed in her mind, _those bastards summoned a banshee for their pathetic revenge!_

"ROLA!" each girl screamed as soon as their senses would allow it, except for the furious green-eyed witch. She was mad at herself for not forcing Rolanda to stay committed to Malfoy's challenge, she could have petrified them long enough until all were forced to go back to the castle. They'd be cross at her for doing such a thing, but at least this would never have happened! For a moment she felt so completely and utterly helpless as she tried to get a word, thought or location of Rolanda, only for all her attempts to fail, though the feeling quickly passed. There was just one thing to do: _'Charge right in'_, as the hawk-eyed girl had said a few years ago.

Minerva took one deep breath before breaking into a mad dash towards the forest and hearing the screams that made her heart feel like it was shattering only fueled her speed.

"Where are you going?" Poppy's honey glazed voice shook with terror as she shouted at her fellow Prefect.

"Getting Rola back!" The dark haired witch didn't turn around or stop, she just ran towards the screaming.

The girls ran after her, exclaiming in relative unison, "We're coming too!"

"No!" Minerva shouted, finally turning around. "Someone needs to get a Professor! Preferably Dumbledore or Galatea, but it doesn't matter who!"

"I better do it. Poppy needs to be with you, and this is your turf, Pomona. Just be careful you three!" Augusta said quickly as she turned and fled. The other three didn't waste anymore time either. They dashed through the forest, hearing the cries and screams echoing in the distance, keeping their wands ready to fire. Again, Minerva tried to reach Rolanda, though it was in vain. They were very much on their own now, lost in the Forbidden Forest, out to fend for themselves and hopefully save their friend from certain death.

"Rola!" the green-eyed witch yelled, dread slowly seeping into her mind. She hated this forest, there was something wrong with the trees, air, soil… everything was tainted, even the bitter frost on the ground.

"Rola!" Poppy cried out as well. "Rola where are you?"

Without warning, Pomona grabbed Minerva's wrist and jerked her back, but before either Gryffindor had a chance to speak, the Hufflepuff fired a spell towards something in front of them. A creature-plant type thing snarled, provoking another spell from the witch, then seemed to gargle under something and die.

"Venomous Tentacula," was all Pomona said in explanation before releasing Minerva. Another terrible shrill sound echoed, it was distant but came more from the right than then previous. Rolanda was getting away.

"Come on!" The green eyed witch dashed onward with both girls hot on her heels. Adrenaline took over, blood pumped though her veins, and all she could hear was the echoing screams and her own ragged breathing. She jumped over a fallen tree trunk, skidded under a cocoon - Merlin only knew what terrible creature was encased in it - and blasted away spider webs. Yet, when she reached the edge of a lake she skidded to a halt, throwing both her arms out behind her, preventing the other girls from going any further. At this point the green-eyed witch was close to muttering curses left, right and centre.

"Pomona, do you know what that is?" Minerva breathed with a hint of annoyance.

"Merlin's beard! Is-Is that a Black Cauldron?"

Poppy placed her hands on her knees, breathing heavily. "And what exactly… does that mean?" Instead of explaining, Minerva flicked her wand at a nearby branch and levitated it several inches above the surface of the oozing black, tarry liquid. Like a squid capturing it's prey, the lake acted instantly. Several arms reached out, wrapping around the branch and dragging it underneath. Poppy gasped, taking a few steps back and clutching her fellow Gryffindor's arm. "S-She's not in t-there, is she?"

Screams echoed across the lake, more violent, desperate and haunting than the last, answering the girl's question. Minerva wasn't sure which fate was worse.

"Well then what do we do? We can't just leave her!" Poppy herself was becoming quite frantic, hearing the consistent screams of their sister. She'd go mad if they didn't stop soon.

"We're not! Just give us me a minute..." the green-eyed witch hissed, bracing her temples with her cold fingers.

"Opposites retract." Pomona said quietly, remembering what she had read in the library with Minerva and Augusta. "To thwart off, think; black and white, dark and-"

"Light!" Minerva exclaimed. "Poppy, we need light, and lots of it!"

With a nod, her sister began waving her wand and muttering _'Lumos Maxima!'_, and the lake shuddered in reaction. Shielding her eyes from the intense light, the dark haired Gryffindor pointed her wand at the dangerous liquid. "Mona, help me freeze the lake."

The Hufflepuff nodded and together they shouted _'Glacius!'_. Instantly, the black substance seemed to shudder as the frost as well as the illuminating light from Poppy's wand spread across the lake. In seconds, it was as solid as stone. Cautious but determined, the three stepped onto the lake and Minerva quickly transfigured their shoes into ice skates.

"If it wasn't for the fact that Rola is in grave peril, this might actually be fun!" Pomona whispered quietly as they began to skate across, determined to save missing witch from a horrendous fate.

"Well, good for you. I, however, don't entirely enjoy skating. Too many injuries can occur..."

"As if this isn't dangerous enough!" Pomona interjected with a slight hint of laughter.

"Good point. In that case if we get out of this, girls, I swear that I'll never complain about our bird's hyper behavior again."

Minerva tried to laugh, but when the black tar oozed from a crack in front of them and launched at them, she nearly lost her voice.

"DUCK!" the Hufflepuff screamed. Instantly, Minerva and Pomona slid under the arm while Poppy jumped a second behind them. She landed with the grace of a professional skater as the other two drew themselves back to full height and continued to propel themselves against the odds. Were they not in mortal danger, both of them would have commented about how Poppy could not like skating, but be so talented at it. At this point, all three witches were swerving, furiously fighting to keep their feet away from the sentient tar as the ice continued to crack behind them in large chunks.

"Why isn't the light working?" Poppy screamed, half in terror and half in relief too, as she could see the lake's shore line on the other side.

"I don't know, maybe -" Minerva tried to form a theory when a giant crack formed in front of their destination and she shrieked. "JUMP, DAMN IT! JUMP!"

The green-eyed witch did all she could to propel their bodies over to the bank with her magic while creating a shield against the arm-like protrusions of tar. The trio landed with a thud that nearly rattled Minerva's train of thought. She blinked a couple times, trying to ignore the impending headache from crashing head on into the bank and attempted to breathe.

"I take that back. I'll fly with that hawk from dawn till dusk, Merlin, just get us out alive!" Poppy said while getting off her shaky knees. She waved her wand to return their shoes back to normal. "You two all right?"

"Yeah, I'm working on it," the green-eyed witch groaned, feeling extremely stiff as she pulled her legs to her chest and pushed down heavily upon her arms in order to stand up. A moment later, Minerva was dreadfully aware of how silent the forest was. The screaming had ceased.

Pomona, however, had not answered about her well being, yet when her face paled and she looked like she was about to be sick when she shrieked incomprehensibly. Minerva only had to glance to her left to see Rolanda being assaulted like a morsel of prey. The girl was moving, but she wasn't fighting; instead her body was convulsing uncontrollably and blood was _everywhere._ Only a split second passed before the trio of girls were dashing towards their sister, wands out, firing stunning spells at the creature. Minerva had her sword out without even knowing it.

"_Stupefy!"_ Pomona and Poppy shouted. The haunting creature didn't fall over unconscious as most wizards and witches would, instead it was only sent back a few feet from the unconscious girl, shrieking as it did. The green-eyed witch fired the silencing charm at the beast without stopping her running advance. She could hear Poppy rushing towards Rolanda, Pomona not far behind her as she fired another stunner.

As if she'd been hit by the spell herself, Minerva suddenly remembered reading about banshees extreme reaction to heat. She didn't think when she flicked her wand, mercilessly conjured a blaze of fire to stop the creature from advancing towards them. This needed to end here and now if they were to get Rolanda out alive... _if _she could be healed that is. A new anger rushed into her mind as she thrust her wrist towards the creature. The fire roared, impaling the creature with might and causing the horrid beast's interior to combust.

Despite the silencing charm, the horrid beast managed to break through it, letting out an ear piercing, bone wrenching screech which filled the forest that forced the witches to cover their ears and fall to their knees. Thankfully, Poppy was already kneeling when the shrill came over them and didn't collapse on top of her radically injured sister. Minerva's survival magic kicked in and created a sound proof barrier around her. Quickly, she took advantage, running towards the banshee while bringing her sword around and decisively delivered the final blow of silence.

The green-eyed witch refused to look down at the smoldering banshee, knowing she'd probably vomit from the stench alone if she did. She could hear Poppy's immediate return to work, uttering healing spells repeatedly, so she turned around and began walking towards the two girls. To her partial dislike, Pomona's eyes were wide and jaw slacked with fearful awe as she stared at the dark haired Gryffindor.

"You weren't kidding when you told us Merrythought's training made you deadly..." the Hufflepuff said quietly. "But believe it or not, I'm rather glad you're taking those lessons, especially now."

Minerva didn't comment on that, instead she began muttering spells to alert her if someone, or _something _drew within fifty feet of them. Finally dropping her wand arm at her side, the witch could finally force herself to look down upon her unconscious sister. It was hard to come to grips with the fact that, if she had been stubborn enough to go back to Hogwarts like the 'good witch' everyone expected her to be, Rolanda would have ended up dead. She didn't need Poppy's diagnostics to tell her that. Even with the healing spells, there were still obvious signs of trauma inflicted upon the girl. She was mumbling words of no coherence and twitching every now and then as she lay in Poppy's arms.

"Should I make some cover for us? We're quite exposed out here," the Hufflepuff Prefect asked.

"I'd say so," Poppy spoke quietly, holding the injured girl up in her arms slightly.

"How is she, Poppy, really?" the green eyed witch asked quietly, kneeling down near the two girls while Pomona began growing a canopy of tightly woven roots around and above them.

Poppy shook her head somberly. "She's lucky to be alive. I imagine she'll have to spend a week or so in the Hospital wing, if not St. Mungo's. She lost so much blood..." Rolanda's hands began to tremble as she moaned something in protest. Upon instinct, the apprentice began stroking the girl's hair, giving her words of comfort as she did. "Shh, Rola, it's all right. We're all here, you're going to be okay."

Hearing her sister's words seemed to calm Rolanda's traumatized mind, she stopped mumbling and nestled her head to the side into Poppy's palm.

"Gods, I'm so scared, Min." Tears dropped down the healer's cheeks. "I was going to learn the spell to help replenish blood within the body tomorrow... if I knew that, I wouldn't be so worried! I don't know if- she might..."

Minerva wrapped her arms around her trembling sister, carefully pulling her close. "We'll get through this. I know we will. Rola's a natural born fighter and she heals faster than all of us - thank Merlin she inherited that partial Metamorphmagus trait from her father."

"But what if it's not enough?" Poppy whimpered, doubting herself under the strain of the situation. "What if Gusta was caught by Mr Pringle and he didn't listen to her, thought her story was rubbish and fake? Min, we could be out here for days! Rolanda can't move, she broke several of the bones in her legs, and it will take a few days for the magic to completely work. On top of that, I don't even know if she'll be conscious enough to stand, let alone run while we try to cross that abominable lake again. Minerva, this forest is -"

"Shh!" Pomona hissed from behind. Her wand, no longer working on the barrier, was firmly pointed in the direction of the Black Cauldron. "Do you hear that?"

Poppy unconsciously clutched Rolanda closer to her chest and the girl mumbled incomprehensible. Minerva looked behind her, swearing that she too could hear a faint howling in the distant fog. Her mind raced through files of information that she'd studied in Magical Creatures, when suddenly her eyes snapped open, wide with the horror that threatened to overtake her for a moment. However, she managed to calm the dangerous tide and stand strong against the oncoming storm.

"Oh hell," she breathed, her voice a mix of horror and dread. "That's not good!" In an instant, the green eyed witch was on her feet, ignoring the numbness impaling her fingertips.

"What's '_not good'?_ What is that noise, Minerva?" Poppy's honey glazed voice was gaining an edge of hysteria, especially with her sister not telling her anything!

"Mona, quickly close that barrier so that there's no opening what-so-ever!" the dark haired witch ordered, and to Poppy's horror, Pomona nodded.

"_What?" _the healer shrieked. "No! Min, you _can't_ seal Rola and I in here and just expect me to let you two fight whatever that is by yourselves!"

"Please, sister, don't protest this!" she pleaded, trying to show her the severity of the situation. "If we don't make it, you and Rola will be safely hidden 'til someone arrives!"

Tears threatened to take the apprentice as she spoke again, "Can I at least know what's going on?"

"The death howl of a banshee alerts the pack..." There was no time to explain the situation any further. Without another word said between them, Minerva flicked her wrist, casting a silencing charm around the growing barrier that Pomona had begun to seal off, and then ran off. Thoughts were now racing through her mind as she neared the Black Cauldron lake, being sure to stay several feet away from it. The howling was steadily drawing closer.

"So, what's the plan?" the Hufflepuff said grimly while coming up behind the Gryffindor girl. "Or do we even have one, considering how bad this potentially could be?"

Minerva nodded her head, looking at Pomona with wary eyes. She was extremely thankful the Herbology genius hardly ever showed fear within her facial expressions - though her eyes always did if one looked carefully enough.

"If I didn't have one, we'd all be in that cover with Poppy and Rola. I'm just not sure it'll work."

"Well, spit it out then, because to be quite honest, Min, I'm frightened."

"As you should be," the Gryffindor whispered rather hauntingly. "Mona, correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't Black Cauldrons highly flammable?"

Now Pomona let a smirk tug at her lips. "Yes, they are."

"Well then, when I raise my wand, we'll ignite it. I'll warn you though, as soon as we do, we _**must**_ cast the Silencing charm around us- not on them, _us_ -or we too will be killed."

The Hufflepuff gulped and looked across the accursed lake. "What about Poppy and Rola?"

"I cast the spell on them while you were erecting the barrier."

Pomona nodded, her smile not entirely gone, but not as wide as before. The distant howls and shrieks became closer, and frightfully more terrifying. The two girls stood their ground, twisting their wands in their hands nervously. A few moments passed before the hoard became visible, racing towards them. There were dozens of them, red eyed and furious. The sight was terrifying enough that it had the Hufflepuff raising her wand in preparation and stammering slightly, "M-Minerva, what if some were on the o-other side of the lake? They'd come after us from b-behind."

"I have no doubt there's a few on their way, but we'll deal with them after this lot."

"Right, of course."

The horrible screeching grew louder and was almost deafening when Minerva could see their dark red pupils. It was then that she raised her wand.

"_Tricendio!"_ the girls shouted, firing three bolts of fire from their wands which hit the lake like rockets. For a moment nothing happened, and fear that they'd been wrong began to consume them. Just when the lead banshee could almost touch them, the lake erupted into flames in a roaring explosion. Had Minerva not grabbed Pomona to her side and wandlessly encased them in a shield charm, they would have suffered several severe burns instead of merely being knocked to the ground.

Pomona acted before the green eyed witch could. She quickly muttered the Silencing charm and expanded it around them as they watched the horrendous scene unfolding before them. The smell of burning flesh, a boiling mass of blood and bone, mixed with something like burning acid, was sickening. The creatures' bodies were squirming in the fire's unforgiving wrath, before they self-destructed and their remains fell into the lake.

"Merlin's beard..." the Hufflepuff's voice trembled as she looked away, unable to bear watching anymore. "What have we done?"

"We defended ourselves, Mona. They would have killed us if we had not acted."

"I know..."

The Gryffindor gripped her sword in one hand as she stood up, offering her other to Pomona which was accepted gratefully.

_Minerva? Minerva Margret McGonagall, for Merlin's sake, please tell me you and Pomona are all right?_ Poppy's terrified voice came through their connection, begging to make contact.

_Yes, we're fine, Poppy, but we're coming your way. There may be a few more-_

_Wait, you're not here? You're not making that noise against the barrier?_

_No, we're not... Oh no. Stay inside, Poppy!_

Minerva broke into a run, Pomona right behind her without question. Her hand was on her sword again, drawing it out from it's holster while her wand hand was twitching to fire. Suddenly, a banshee swooped in front of them, claws reaching for Minerva. Quickly, she brought her sword around and drove it into the centre of the beast. Before the creature could utter any screech from the pain, however, Pomona silenced it and then fired _"Incendio!"_ after Minerva pulled the silver weapon out of the enemy.

"Go! Get to Poppy and Rola, the banshees know where they are!" she screamed in desperation. If the Hufflepuff bothered to nod, the green eyed witch didn't see it while delivering the final blow to the creature's head. Quickly, she made her way to the barrier as well. The moment she saw four banshees closing in on Pomona, her wand twisted and flicked without any thought, sending a fiery wall in front of the girl to protect her.

The Hufflepuff jumped back a few feet, then fired "_Depremio!"_ at one victim. Minerva immediately took advantage. She levitated the decorated weapon, sending it soaring straight into the fallen beast's throat, silencing it permanently. Pomona cast a fiery blast on another while her partner inflicted the ever-helpful charm of silence - or else the girls would have dropped dead upon their combined scream attacks.

Yet, these creatures were smart devils; knowing they couldn't get around to attack Pomona because of the fire, they swooped towards Minerva at a speed she definitely considered problematic. Even if she were to construct a wall of flame around herself, they'd break through before it could be set ablaze.

With just a flick of her hand, the witch pulled her sword out of the dead creature's neck, and redirected it to fly straight into one of her three attackers. Before Minerva had time to encase herself in a shield charm, however, the claws of one beast dug into her shoulder. The agony radiating from the blow fueled her fury. Her eyes snapped into a mode she wished she never had to re-enter, but it was a means of survival. Blocking out everything - including her emotions - she grabbed the banshee's hard, bony torso, then emitted an explosion that knocked herself off her feet, while blood spattered across her face and drenched her clothes from the entrails of the dead beast.

Had she been in the proper mindset, Minerva would have vomited, but it never registered in her mind. Even Pomona's screams didn't register, and by that time she was lost. Only a moment passed before she was furiously dodging blows from the last standing creature. It was flung to the side by a spell emitted from the Hufflepuff, and Minerva immediately cast the final blow of incendiary fire. Whatever the spell's actual incantation was she didn't know, but it worked, and that's all that mattered. Only when the last beast dropped to the ground, disintegrating into ash, did the witch begin to breathe normally again, slowly easing herself out of her battle-crazed state. She heard footsteps and turned around instantly, her wand ready to fire, obviously not quite free of her war-sharpened reactions.

"Minerva?" the frightened, honey glazed voice asked with caution, and rightfully so. The green-eyed Gryffindor could feel her hands still pulsing with magic. "Minerva, it's me, Poppy. Are you all right?"

"No, not yet, stay there," she growled, lowering her wand. She forced herself to stare at the scorched earth all around her, letting herself see and feel the devastation she'd created. There wasn't an inch around them not covered in a soft layer of ash. She could feel the dangerous haze that covered her eyes slowly begin to disappear, but even then she could feel her hands twitching at the crackling of fire. Finally, Minerva began to think and when she did she nearly laughed at the way her body was behaving. _Ready to attack someone due to the sound of embers burning? Merlin's beard, I really must learn how to control myself, this is ridiculous!_

The green eyed witch turned around slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements. She stood there for only Merlin knew how long, trying to regain her humanity. When she finally heard Poppy's voice again, the witch knew she must have been there for atleast five minutes.

"Minerva, can you drop your wand for me?" she asked, slowly and steadily walking towards her sister. "Your shoulder..." her eyes glanced at the wound, then returned to her sister's eyes. "Let's just say it needs to be healed, and Merlin's beard, you've got blood all over you... Please, drop your wand, and let me help you."

It was like she was speaking to a frightened, caged, wild bear, but it's what had to be done. Poppy knew she had every right to be cautious, if not then things could go horribly wrong. She could see Minerva twisting her wand for a moment, slightly unsure of what to do. It was an odd thing for her, knowing if she made one wrong move, Minerva's embedded instincts would immediately take over and probably view her as a threat, yet, when the green eyed witch finally dropped her wand, she knew her sister was back

"Okay," Minerva breathed, "but I insist on sitting down. I'll be easier to... _work with."_ That was something the healer apprentice definitely could agree upon. She waited for a moment before she joined her sister on the ash covered ground. Cautiously, she placed her hand over Minerva's own. They looked into each other's eyes, finding an understanding between them. It was hard to compose their thoughts, even with their connection; Minerva's battle haze tended to do that, but nevertheless, it calmed them both down enough to exchange simple feelings. Poppy was truly a miracle in moments like these.

"Okay, I'm going to cast a few healing charms. They might sting a little though."

"It's all right, Poppy," the green eyed witch said. "I'm fine, really."

The apprentice huffed a bit, probably biting down a retort or two, then proceeded with her duties. Poppy worked quickly, first healing Minerva's shoulder, then siphoned the massive amounts of blood and dust from her robes.

"Your shoulder's better, though I imagine it'll be sore for a while," she said with a rather impassive tone that Minerva found a bit odd.

"Are _you_ all right, Poppy?"

Her sister shook her head softly. "Not entirely. I'm still very shaken inside. I just want to get out of here and get Rola to Madam Nurix. Maybe then I'll relax, but Merlin, I don't know."

Minerva nodded softly, not surprised by the answer, then began looking around their surroundings, searching for the Hufflepuff girl. "Wait, where's Pomona?"

"She's with Rola, and also very shaken. I think your actions might have awakened her to the reality of your warnings towards everyone about your abilities. She was stuttering something about you exploding a banshee after it delivered that blow to your shoulder. But don't worry about that, I have a feeling Mona will come around to understanding."

Poppy offered a hand to help pull Minerva onto her feet again and she accepted it with a small smile. After the green eyed witch retrieved her wand and removed her sword from it's final victim, they began walking back to the tightly woven barrier of roots- now with a large enough hole to allow entrance -when a twig snapped. Already on edge, the Gryffindor Prefects turned their heads instantly to the source of the noise. It was from the far left, no more than fifty feet away, but the damnable brush prevented them form laying eyes on it. Minerva's eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. Her Animagus traits kicked in and she smelled the creature. It was that of an untamed, wild dog, but there was something oddly human about it as well. The only source that came to the witch's mind was the creature that was always erected by a full moon.

"You've got to be kidding me, not a bloody werewolf!" Minerva nearly screamed in frustration and Poppy gasped in fear, clutching her sister's arm. The green eyed witch's limbs were tired, and her mind was mentally strained, but if her senses were right and this creature was a werewolf, then they were near doomed. banshees were bad enough, and a whole herd of them was worse, but a werewolf... Once again, Minerva drew upon her instincts and gripped both of the weapons at her disposal.

"Get Mona out of there, this isn't going to be easy!"

"No! Min, wait, _please!_ If it is a werewolf, we'll need to fight it together! Don't go charging in alone!"

"If I don't now, it'll catch us unprepared! Just go, Poppy, go!"

Minerva didn't wait for an answer as she transformed into her Animagus as she broke into a run. Her senses were blocking all thought, instead she drew upon every ounce of courage and bravery she had. Drawing near the animal she jumped, transforming back with her sword in hand, although she found herself tumbling into the creature- which let out a snarling growl as she did. There wasn't a clear picture of her attacker when she quickly found her footing again and brought up the sword around to slice at the enemy... but the creature- who seemed suddenly taller -stopped her, bracing its hands against the cold, silver blade.

"Minerva, no! Stop!" Poppy screamed from behind, but she didn't let go until another voice grunted in front of her. It never registered exactly _who_ she was locked in combat with until they spoke.

"Snap out of it, child!" it hissed coldly and sharply, yet with a tinge of love that Minerva still could not understand, but that didn't matter. She recognized the voice, and that's what immediately lifted the haze from her eyes. But even though she could see Galatea's pale blue eyes wide with partial fear, the grip on her weapons did not ease.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ Poppy's voice echoed through the forest as both her sword and wand were out of grasp. The elder witch immediately clutched Minerva by the shoulders, swiftly flipped their positions, pinning the girl to the ground with unyielding force while pointing her own wand in the student's face. The threatening position made the girl squirm.

"Minerva, it is _me,_ Galatea! Relax, child, I am not going to hurt you. Relax, and I will let you go!" Hearing the woman's voice again caused reality to sink in a bit further. There was no Werewolf. Professor Merrythought was here, she must have received Augusta's message. Minerva gasped and stopped struggling when the last piece clicked into place; she had attacked her mentor.

Galatea slowly lowered her wand, feeling her student relaxing. They didn't say another word between them as she helped Minerva off the ground, then grappled her into a tight embrace, letting her fear become relief upon knowing that the girl was alive.

"Well," Dumbledore's voice echoed from the left as he transformed from his Animagus with a hint of humor glinting in his eyes, although it was quickly consumed by the current situation, "that went better than expected."

* * *

><p>"Wait a minuet, let me get this straight..." Galatea said with weary eyes. Never in her life had she been up this late due to students. It was nearly three in the morning and Minerva was still in her office. Rolanda Hooch had been deemed healed well enough by Poppy Pomfrey that she didn't need to go to St. Mungo's. The girl was extremely lucky to even be alive, in fact all of them were for that matter. Even Augusta, who apparently had to hex Mr Pringle before she found Professor Dumbledore and Professor Merrythought. She would be pardoned for attacking him, considering the circumstances, though it wouldn't surprise Galatea if Apollyon held a grudge against the girl for a few years.<p>

Professor Slughorn was apparently on his way, accompanying the Slytherins that the girls thought to be involved. The trouble was, none of the girls got a good glance at the boys, and Armando Dippet was having trouble with the concept of suspending- let alone expelling -the boys, because the girls hadn't seen any faces or heard their voices to be able to identify the culprits. Despite Albus and Galatea's prodding about the latter, he still wasn't convinced, and that in itself was enough to make Galatea fly into a rage. Albus stopped her before she said something very unpleasant that might lead to her sacking, but she still muttered the vulgar statements under her breath. While Armando was usually a pleasant man to get along with, he was typically very complacent when deciding major punishment.

"Malfoy threatened to expose our lessons, but you declined- and rightly so, I might add -then he pressed a _knife_ against your wrist?"

Minerva shrugged, her eyes continued to bother the woman by not looking at her. "I know it doesn't sound conventional, but from what I hear, the Untergang isn't using conventional methods either."

Galatea sighed, knowing the girl had a point. The entire situation was an absolute nightmare. From the moment Miss Louise nearly ran into Professor Dumbledore and herself, her mind had not been at ease. She didn't need to hear the blonde Gryffindor tell her that Minerva was in danger; the fear in her eyes said everything. Although, the moment after hearing that it wasn't just her beloved surrogate granddaughter that was in danger, everything pulled hard to port. Galatea and Albus didn't bother to inform anyone where they were going. The sheer ferocious billowing of their robes and determination in their eyes would have made it obvious. They'd transformed into their Animagi, going into the forest as humans would have been risky, and not just from the horrendous creatures that lived there.

An enormous fire in the distance was their hint of where to go. All animals and creatures alike were rushing to get away from it, including several very angry Centaurs who were muttering under their breath about _'ignorant human foals'._ All the same, Galatea couldn't help but wonder what monstrosity had created such mad panic and destruction. She should have known, however, that it was Minerva's doing. The child simply could not leave well enough alone, although this time it was for the better, even if she didn't realize that yet.

"I never did tell you how amazed I was that you even survived. Even with your training, I never expected... of course I am glad that you did, but still the fact remains." A small smirk appeared on her thin lips. "And despite your continued dismissal of my wandlore 'theory', it was once again proved correct."

Her last comment didn't have the desired humorous effect on the girl that Galatea hoped for. There was no smile, not even a faint one.

"Galatea," the girl's emerald eyes finally snapped out of their avoidance, looking directly into her mentor's pale blue orbs as she tried to speak, "I didn't... I wouldn't have..." she licked her lips as the words escaped her again. She'd attacked the woman she cared for above everyone else in her life- including her mother. Even if the woman could forgive her, Minerva knew she would not forgive herself, not until she figured out how to correct 'the problem'. Galatea's heart nearly broke seeing the emotion radiating from the girl's eyes. She placed a hand on the Gryffindor's cheek.

"I know, child, you need not say it. You acted exactly as I trained you to. That is my fault, not yours."

"But _I_ did it, they were _my _actions." The elder witch was finding Minerva's calm voice rather unnerving. She was accepting the entire situation far too easily than Isobel ever would have- if she'd actually have gone through such an ordeal that is. Maybe it was because of the girl's father, Robert, although she knew that was extremely unlikely.

"Minerva, darling, listen to me. You were never in danger of harming me. I knew how you operated and I prepared myself for that... believe it or not, I actually told Professor Dumbledore to stun you if I could not handle you my self. Trust me, child, no matter what your intentions were, they would not have been allowed to materialize. I may be old, but that also means I know several more tricks than you, my dear." She winked at the girl. To her relief Minerva smiled softly then stifled a yawn. Galatea smirked in amusement, nearly catching herself doing the same thing. "Go on, get some sleep, and make sure to give Miss Pomfrey my sincere gratitude for training as a medi-witch. I am sure Madam Nurix praises her enough as it is, but nevertheless, she deserves it."

Minerva nodded and made her way towards the door when she stopped and pivoted her footing, turning her head so she could look into the woman's eyes. Her voice was soft though it carried throughout the room with ease. "Galatea?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Thank you, I don't know why you're doing this for me, and I have a feeling you can't tell me so I won't ask, but I really do appreciate it."

Galatea bit her tongue and looked away from those wondrous green eyes to prevent herself from spilling everything to the girl as that familiar pang filled her chest. She wanted to so desperately, and moments like this made the heartache deepen to the point that she thought she would finally break. "I wish I could, Minerva. You have no idea how hard it is for me to keep _it_ inside."

"Yet, you do." The girl paused, searching for any expressions the woman would give, and thankfully, she got one. It was a slight hint of what she perceived to be guilt in those pale blue eyes, and it suddenly made sense. "Galatea, I don't hate you for it, you know, for not telling me."

It was the woman's turn to be at loss for words, so she whispered, "Thank you, now off you go," closed the door behind the girl, and let the tears building inside quietly run down her cheeks, before joining Albus Dumbledore at the scene of the crime. She could wait to hear the testaments of those sly Slytherins until later. Much later.

* * *

><p>Professor Dumbledore stared into the still blazing inferno that Minerva McGonagall and Pomona Sprout had created. What the two had done was in self defence, that could not be questioned, but nearly fifty banshees had been claimed by the blaze. It was hard for him to imagine what would have happened if the green eyed Gryffindor hadn't taken up Galatea's lessons- no, not hard, but terribly difficult for him to accept. She, and the other three girls would undoubtedly have been brutally killed before either professor was notified by a terrified Augusta Louise.<p>

Albus shuddered at where his imaginings were taking him; it took more mental will power than usual to bring him out of such thoughts, although any thought about Miss McGonagall these days was becoming difficult to rid himself of. She captivated him, whether she knew it or not, but he refused to ponder as to why. She was his student and that was that.

The wizard heard a soft _**pop**_ to his right, yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sea of flames, nor did he need to. With several soft crunches of ash being stepped on, Professor Merrythought was at his side in a few moments, her pale crystal eyes also entranced by the enormous blaze.

"Armando's trying to decide what to do. I don't imagine he'll be quick with his judgement," Albus spoke rather calmly- despite his current thoughts. Fire always seemed to do that to him.

Galatea huffed in irritation. "I hope they get what they deserve. What those Slytherins did was absolutely vile; summoning a _b__anshee?"_ She shook her head and crossed her arms below her chest. "The only thing in my mind for them would be expulsion. I can not tolerate such animosity!"

Albus bobbed his head in agreement. "Did you hear what Mr Malfoy threatened Minerva with?" Her name felt strange on his tongue, and not in a bad way.

Galatea almost laughed, her sharp cold voice could have sliced through the flames. "That boy is an utter fool, Albus. Yes, he knows about my lessons with Minerva, but what he does not know is that Orpington approved it them. Even if Armando does not know about them, nor he does not have much of a say in the matter. Minerva was right not to be concerned about me."

"I'm rather concerned about her lack of ability to pull out of that haze you've created, Galatea." When the witch didn't reply, he spoke again, tearing his eyes from the fire to look at his colleague. "I'd like to teach Minerva how to restrain her instincts so she doesn't have to fear her actions, or otherwise her magic will harm someone she does not intend to.."

"She has a lot on her plate already, Albus."

"I know that, but you cannot deny the necessity of this. She needs to learn how to disengage the instincts you've taught her to rely on without thought or feeling. You're lucky that you have a strong connection with the girl and that she stopped when she did; but what about her peers? Her colleagues and partners in the future? Someone _will_ unintentionally be murdered if she doesn't have some control of her mind!"

The witch frowned and closed her eyes, releasing a deep sigh. The wizard was right, and she knew it. But she didn't want him to be. The one time she let herself relax, or feel for that matter, was when she'd let her nemesis get away. But that was not Minerva, and the woman had to remind herself that she couldn't live through the girl.

Finally Galatea nodded in agreement.

* * *

><p><strong>I am so ready to be done with action-packed writing for a while. It's time for some 'mellow' seriousness again. Also, if you've studied WWII and are keeping in mind of major event dates, you might have a pretty good idea of the next 'bombshell' tragedy lurking about. Speaking of bombshells, PoaG is now over 100k words! I warned you all this would be a big story, and I wasn't kidding lol! We've got a long way to go until 1972, and I have no intentions of stopping!<br>**

**Well, ta-ta for now, and remember to review! :)  
>~LinK<strong>


	19. Stability and Stalemate

_**It's the story of your life, you're tearing out the page**_

_**New chapter on underway**_

_**The story of your life, you live it every day**_

_**You can run, you run**_

_**But you won't get away**_

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><p><strong>AN:**

~While the U.K. has the "Ministry of Magic", I concluded that the American Wizarding government would have a different name- because if there's one thing us Americans just _love_ to do, it's naming things differently lol! Due to this fact, I've come up with the "**American Legion of Magic**", and instead of "Aurors" they have "**Specters**".

~Side note, having two British betas is rather amusing for the one American author. Forgive any British-American word "discrepancies" lol!  
><strong>Beta #1 Note: <strong>We resemble that remark :D  
><strong>Beta #2 Note:<strong> British betas of the world unite!  
><strong>Author:<strong> Lol, see? There is no escape!

~Anyway, enjoy everyone! I made this update nearly twice as long as my average chapter length (which is currently sitting around 6k) so enjoy my first ever 13k! You've all waited patiently, so you deserved an extra treat (even if you had to wait a little bit longer for it lol!)

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><p><strong><strong>Chapter 18 - Stability and Stalemate<strong>**

**November, 2nd, 1941:**

Rolanda had yet to awaken from her unconscious sleep, but it didn't stop anyone- especially Xavier -from visiting her. When the young man was informed of the news he hadn't reacted like an over-dramatic teenage boy. No, he took the news with a calm grace, nodded, then simply asked to see her. It was touching really, with how much the two just seemed to be the missing puzzle piece that completed the other. Minerva didn't feel a pang in her heart like a jealous school girl when looking at them, knowing she didn't have a person in her life like Xavier, and it probably helped that Rolanda kept her romantic affairs as private as possible- though it was hard to miss when she was excited. No, Minerva was happy for them beyond words. It should have bothered her before regarding how young Rolanda was, getting into what would likely become a very serious relationship, but it didn't, and it certainly didn't now.

Professor Dumbledore had contacted her elective teachers, kindly and professionally asking them to end Minerva's extra assignments due to the recent developments. Galatea had postponed their lessons _'until further notice'_, though when the green-eyed witch asked why, her Defence professor said that Dumbledore would explain everything later then walked away without another word to be exchanged between them. Things were changing for her rather quickly, and if she were honest, it was a bit overwhelming. Needless to say, when Poppy came rushing into the Great Hall to inform them that their dear, reckless sister had woken up, it was a much needed distraction from the unpredictability that now surrounded her. Pomona looked up from her table upon seeing the hustle and bustle, and to her sheer delight, Minerva waved her over to come with them. All four girls, with hopeful smiles on their faces, tore down the corridors and stairs, only halting when they reached the Hospital wing.

Madam Nurix was with the hawk-eyed witch, along with Xavier, smiling with a hint of a tears in her eyes when she beckoned the group to come nearer, "Come on over, girls. I don't usually let so many visitors hover around a patient who's just coming round, but I think she's the exception."

Minerva felt warm butterflies in her stomach walking over to her sister, but when the girl's brilliant yellow eyes connected with her own, joy spread through her system.

"Hey everyone!" Rolanda croaked, her voice was a bit scratchy and weak, but it didn't matter. Considering all she had been through, every witch and wizard knew that she was more than lucky even alive, let alone the sheer dumb luck that she had the friends she did. Pomona, the Herbology genius; Augusta, though terrible at charms, was the ever-loyal friend and rationalist; Poppy knew just about every healing spell imaginable for a student at Hogwarts; and then there was Minerva, the dangerous and knowledgeable assassin within the body of a sixteen year old witch. Yes, if anyone could have possibly survived being kidnapped and mauled by a Banshee in the Forbidden Forest, it would definitely be Rolanda.

"How are you feeling?" Minerva asked quietly.

"Like I should be getting the _'I told you'_ speech." She smirked, forcing the girls in the nearby vicinity to laugh quietly.

"There will be time for that later," the dark haired Prefect said with a wink, "but for now I think I'd speak for everyone if I said we're just happy to see you alive, awake and well."

They took their time filling Rolanda in on the events of Friday night and early Saturday morning, letting her soak in all that had happened while she was unconscious, being extra careful not to leave any detail out- except about her condition when they rescued her from the horrendous beast. Minerva let Poppy and Pomona talk about her own actions as she was still rather uncomfortable with the facts of what she'd done. It was like living another life. No one could expect the ferocity which the young woman was capable of fighting with- especially behind those seemingly innocent, emerald eyes. When the time came to explain how Professor Merrythought and Professor Dumbledore found them, Minerva interjected to make sure Rolanda didn't know. The hawk-eyed witch could find out later what had really happened from Poppy or Pomona, but not while she was present. It was still hard enough for her to even think about it.

"Dumbledore summoned his phoenix to teleport you here, then we all took a side-apparition to the gates," Poppy explained.

Rolanda gasped and her golden yellow eyes lit up. "I got teleported by Fawkes and I don't even remember it? That is completely unfair!" she pouted humorously, coaxing more laughter into the room. "Well, we've gone through just about everything except for what the Headmaster decided Malfoy's fate should be."

The room instantly grew silent.

"Er, well…" Augusta stammered, though before she could manage to force a sentence out, Minerva growled the answer.

"The Headmaster decreed that because we had no physical proof that it was him, Malfoy shouldn't be punished."

"What? B-But that doesn't make sense!"

"There was no trace of the knife he pressed against my wrist, the whistle is no where to be found and unfortunately my petrifying charm must have either missed, or worn off before anyone could find them out of bed. Hence, he and his gang are getting away with near murder. However, he has been assigned detention every week 'til the year ends."

Rolanda grew very silent, though her grip on Xavier tightened and trembled slightly. "My own damn fault I suppose, I should have listened to you, Min."

Despite the perfect opportunity to scold her sister, Minerva was beyond such actions. "No, it's not, Rola. It's Malfoy's fault for demanding the duel in the first place."

"If he hadn't done that, life would be grand," Xavier said with a slight growl, then kissed her cheek. He'd promised the girls he wouldn't do _'anything stupid'_ to Abraxas already, and he had no intention of breaking it.

The hawk-eyed witch smiled softly and her heat tilted slightly towards her wizard. "True."

"Pardon me, ladies and Mr Hawke," a wise, kind voice said from behind. "I hate to break up the much anticipated and well deserved reunion, but I must speak with Miss McGonagall." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled with a small smile on his lips, and as usual, the dark haired Prefect couldn't say _'no'_.

"Of course, Professor," the witch said, then followed him out of the room. When he closed the door behind him, he glanced at Minerva with a new expression, one she wasn't entirely sure what to make of. "Does Professor Dippet wish to speak with me again?"

"No, no, I'm not here to escort you to the Headmaster this time, McGonagall. Professor Merrythought and I have been conversing over the course of Friday night's events. Your actions were undoubtedly substantial and exquisite-"

"No, they were not. I can't control myself, Professor. It's hard to explain, but I can honestly say that I do _not _trust myself. One small set off and I could have attacked my friends. That's _not_ exquisite, it's flawed, morally dangerous and-"

"And I whole heartedly agree." Despite staring right into his eyes, she had to blink several times to realize Dumbledore had truly said those words. "Miss McGonagall, I presume Professor Merrythought informed you that your lessons with her have been postponed. Now, I know you well enough to believe that you'd have asked why this was, and I'll infer that she said I would inform you at a later date, am I correct?" She nodded in silence so he continued, "This Thursday, after Animagus Studies, you will stay in my office for another hour or so, and we shall begin your lessons on restraint."

As she drank in his words, she suddenly began to breathe as if the world had been lifted off her shoulders. She was near speechless.

"I trust that's what you want?"

"Want? It's more like what I _need,_ and I know I _need _this more than anything, Professor, for my own sanity if nothing else. Thank you, it means more to me than you'll ever know. I'm tired of fighting without control and carrying the fear of hurting someone along with it. Poppy was lucky that I somehow gripped hold of my reactions and stabled my mind, but I still attacked Galatea..."

Professor Dumbledore smiled softly and patted her shoulder. "I understand completely, my dear. Now, you should get back to your friends or they'll begin to wonder what chaos you have conjured up now."

Minerva laughed for first time in what felt like years. Even after a rather deeply emotional subject, the auburn haired wizard had ended their conversation on a lighter note. It was something that he always managed to do, and it was an ability that the witch was eternally grateful for.

Maybe now the tension in her life would creep away, if only just for a little while.

**November 6th, 1941:**

Minerva McGonagall, being the only Advanced student in Professor Dumbledore's Animagus Studies program this year, rather liked the quiet of the Transfiguration office- and the books. Oh sweet Merlin the books! He had so many of them, and only this year had she truly been able to enjoy them, as Richard McRae really had been rather a killer on her curiosity. Typical stuck-up Ravenclaw with his nose in the air like he owned the place. She snorted just thinking about him.

"_The war will soon be over,"_ he had said, and as Minerva predicted, he was so very, _very_ wrong. This morning the Soviet Union's Premier Joesph Stalin addressed his country, for the second time in nearly three decades, stating that the Germans had an army of 350,000 troops coming towards them and that they've taken over Kursk and that they will not succeed. Stalin was known for being the most manipulative wizard of the country, he never used the Unforgivable curses only for the fact that his Legilimency skills were so compelling and overwhelming. For this very reason, he could easily get away with toying with the Muggles minds and ruling seamlessly.

The green eyed Gryffindor sighed, slumping slightly in her chair as she propped her elbow on the arm, resting her cheek on top of her knuckles. It was more than obvious that the United Kingdom was in for several hellish years if the Americans did not enter this war. So far they were relatively unscathed by the war, being an entire ocean away, although their economic situation wasn't back at it's former height due to the Great Depression, the war was changing that- whether they were involved or not. However, none of that mattered when their Congress absolutely _refused_ to declare war unless they were attacked. The Wizard and Muggle Presidents were constantly working together. It helped that Franklin D. Roosevelt was a Squib, thus knew that the war was being fought in both worlds, and he seemed to take that seriously, especially with his constant urging to Congress and toying with his Executive powers as Commander and Chief to intimidate the Axis alliance.

There was also those rumors. Terrible, horrific, and unimaginable rumors of Jewish Muggles and Muggle-born persecution that most dismissed as propaganda. Yet, there were some who just didn't know what to believe; Professor Dumbledore, Galatea, and herself were among them. If anything, it gave her more incentive to train.

The soft billowing of fluorescent robes caught Minerva's attention. She looked up, seeing her Transfiguration professor walk into his office with a twinkle in his deep sapphire eyes. The witch could easily lose herself by just staring into them.

"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."

"Good evening, Miss McGonagall. Are you ready to begin our lessons?" Like a cat, Minerva gracefully stood up and nodded. "Excellent, I had hoped to start immediately."

"What will we be doing, Professor?"

He waved his hand, conjuring a table, two chairs and a chess board, complete with each individual piece. Minerva knew she had quite the puzzled facial expression, there was no way she could hide this. Her previous lessons with Dumbledore had never gone as expected, with him always planning a mischievous teasing trick or two. However, this was a little far from the objective in her eyes.

"Um, forgive me, Professor, but what does chess have to do with the purpose of my lessons?"

To her immense relief, Dumbledore took her comment with humor and chuckled. "My dear, it has everything to do with your lessons. Chess is a strategy game, much like a battlefield. However," he added with a smirk, "this time the battle can not be won with physical or magical superiority, but the relaxed state of the mind and logic."

Minerva put her hands on her hips, raised a brow and tapped her foot sceptically at the rather amused man. "Is that the only reason, Professor?"

He smiled then shrugged. "Maybe I also need to find a new chess partner. Professor Merrythought has never been very good at the game, but don't tell her I said that."

The witch let a small laugh escape her. "Your secret is safe with me, Professor. Shall we begin?"

"Certainly, have a seat." His fingers wiggled slightly in anticipation as they hovered over the pieces. "Oh, and just for future reference, I'm always white."

Minerva rolled her eyes with a smirk and sat down in her chair. She found chess to be oddly calming, not only because it required her undivided attention, but because she was battling someone of- what she considered -higher intellect than herself. He was such a respectable man in her eyes, much more than those idiotic, hormonal boys running around the school. Part of the problem was that she was nearly twice her age in maturity and that she considered no one here at her level of intelligence, which in return meant she was very independent and didn't need a 'boyfriend' cuddling up with her every waking moment- nor did she fancy the idea of her head being filled with idiotic, love-struck thoughts. It just didn't make sense. She had war on her mind, not love, after all.

They were quiet for the first few moves, although that didn't last very long as Dumbledore had his way. "You're just as quiet and sternly focused as Professor Merrythought."

Minerva blinked, looking up from the board. "Pardon?"

The professor smiled, then took one of her pawns. "You're too tense, Miss McGonagall." The witch tilted her head to the side in confusion. His eyes twinkled as he spoke again, "You're thinking to much about what your instincts are telling you. This is a strategy game that can only be won by using your intellectual mind, a part which I know you do not lack."

Minerva pursed her lips in slight disappointment at herself. She analyzed his words again, then got an idea. She placed her hands in her lap and stared at the chess board. Her eyes ran along the grid pattern, memorizing where each piece was and what moves they could make. Only a second ticked by and she had everything implicated in her mind. Her eyes flickered to her knight, then towards the position she wanted it, and it skip-hopped over. Minerva caught another smile from Dumbledore and knew she was on the right track.

"Very good, now you're thinking." He stroked his cropped auburn beard then moved another pawn. His eyes continued to stare at her, not that she minded, though they grew more concerned as she moved another piece. "Miss McGonagall, I'd like you to be completely honest with me when answering my next question."

Minerva's eyes narrowed a bit at his words, slightly offended that he couldn't trust her to answer without lying yet. Truth be told, she was a little more irritated at the fact that he was winning.

"As always, Sir." The witch spoke with an even tone that displayed a slight emphasis on the fact that she always had been. Yet, Professor Dumbledore's sapphire eyes continued to stare at her for several moments, and the fact that they betrayed nothing about his thoughts was even more agitating.

Finally he moved a piece, speaking as he did, "The war is always on my mind these days. The United Kingdom stands alone, relatively, considering we can't entirely trust the Soviets. That being said, Miss McGonagall, do you have any idea what you would be up against, if that does not change?"

The green eyed witch waited until she'd made her move to speak, reeling her thoughts of the matter into words. She crossed her arms on the side of the table and looked at the wizard she'd known since her first day at Hogwarts. Those twinkling eyes, calm composure and welcoming face was always serious, but with a touch of humor. Nothing had really changed on the outside, but the inside was a different story and if there was one person in the world that could see and feel that radiating from him, it would be her.

"Are you asking if I have doubts about my choice of becoming an Auror? That should the war take a turn for the worst, I should abandon my plan?" She didn't speak with an edged tone like Galatea would have, instead, she took her time, softening her voice with a slight bend of the tongue and making sure her eyes never wavered from the wizard's.

"I'll admit, I have had doubts. Galatea's constant questioning becomes rather annoying at times, but in the end it makes me think; what am I really getting into? I've gone to bed more times than I can count pondering that same question, and every time I come to the same conclusion. There are billions of people that have been affected by this war, of no choice or consequence of their own. It was forced upon them. There are thousands dying out there every waking moment that this war still goes on. I keep thinking about those people that are hiding, starving, and being tortured. Do I, and many others for that matter, not owe them a hand in support so that innocent men, women and children at least have a fighting chance at life to push back this terrible evil being forced upon them?"

The green eyed witch inhaled softly, licking her lips as she did, then exhaled. "All I know is that I feel obligated to fighting in this war, no matter how hard it gets, or how badly we're losing because either way we'll all end up paying a price. I just want mine to be for a cause that I believe in- one that isn't in favor of Hitler or Grindelwald."

Dumbledore's sapphire eyes had completely lost their twinkle now. He'd asked for honesty, and she gave it to him bluntly, and maybe a little unexpectedly, but nevertheless he needed to hear it, and for his sake as much as her own. Slowly, the wizard nodded his head, showing approval for her words. Resolve was one thing that could waver, but Minerva's was strong, so strong that his gut told him that she was beyond ready for this war- both mentally and physically. However, there is that stubborn little thing called age and unfortunately, the witch was only sixteen. M.E.A.R. refused to accept anyone under the age of eighteen and the Aurors required a diploma. Yet, had those things not mattered, the girl would still be here. Galatea would _never_ let Minerva go off to war without spending the seven years that she had so desperately looked forward to for so long.

He moved his knight, taking one of her pawns and ensuring a small and amusing frown upon the young woman's face. "I think you're close to establishing a high resolve, Miss McGonagall, one that I highly approve of." _And envy. Merlin knows I wish I wasn't such a damn coward._

He saw her eyes, those beautiful green eyes that continued to captivate him to this day, light up from his praise and a small smile curved at her lips. They moved several pieces without another word, she even took a bishop and added it to her growing collection. They were fairly matched, and move by move, Dumbledore began to realize he needed to increase his strategy or he was going to lose. That simply wouldn't do. He had half expected this, however. With a small wave of his hand, he conjured a radio and in a few moments, it began to play the ever popular Muggle song _'Green Eyes'_.

Minerva immediately blushed; she rather enjoyed the song, and it wasn't because her eyes just so happened to be green. Slightly distracted with the song in her head, and the heat in her cheeks, she made a move that cost her a rook. The witch frowned, and even more so when her Professor's eyes twinkled. The man was scheming something.

"You're intentionally distracting me, aren't you Professor?"

"I won't tell anyone that you particularly enjoy this song," he said rather teasingly as he moved another piece.

Minerva narrowed her eyes, her lips pursed in a slight pout. "You're increasing your odds at winning."

Dumbledore smiled then shrugged. "It works both ways, it does play a part in your lesson, despite what you may think."

The witch eyed him with a curious caution, then waved her hand, moving a pawn with her magic. "Is that so?"

The professor nodded, made his move on the board, then waved his hand again, conjuring a gramophone and floating it into the air. It began to play another song, completely offsetting Minerva's concentration to the point that she nearly made her knight knock over his last standing bishop.

"Professor, how can you even play with such racket?"

The wizard smirked, his eyes continued to twinkle. "I've learned to tune out such superfluous things as music when I need to concentrate."

The witch huffed, watching him make another move while he added a bass drum into the mix. That nearly set her teeth on edge. Although it was just an instrument, when combined with everything else it was beginning to sound like a battle march, especially with its loud _**boom**_ simulating some sort of explosion that was no doubt magically enhanced. Before, it had all been annoying but nevertheless she could keep her magic in check. This time, however, she could feel her fingers sparking with an uncontrolled impulse.

_No,_ Minerva told herself, taking a deep breath. _Control yourself, it's only music, Minerva. Just music, no need to get riled up._ She manually moved another pawn with a bit of a shake in her movements. Professor Dumbledore eyed her curiously, then proceeded to take one of her bishops with his queen in a relatively simple move.

"Focus, Miss McGonagall, concentrate on your breathing and your resolve. Let your mind recognize what is happening to you."

Professor Dumbledore's words were stern, yet sincere at the same time, like they used to be during their lessons. Those days seemed so long ago now, and that powerful little girl with so much energy built up inside was nothing more than an occasional glimpse of memory. That girl had so much confidence, making magic work all around her. This time, however, Minerva needed to make it work _inside _her. With a final glance into Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes that always inspired her, she closed her own.

"All the music, all the noise, all the tension- it stimulates a minor haze within you. Feel how it controls you."

And she could. For the first time she could actually _feel_ what Galatea had trained her body to do, and the weapon she was capable of becoming. Yet, what surprised her, was that the hold on her body had never reached full capacity, maybe eighty percent at most. Minerva shuddered to think of what would happen if she ever reached the full limit of her abilities. That fact alone gave the witch more incentive to listen to her professor's words, to find a way to halt herself from ever harming someone she cared for unintentionally. Her thoughts raced, remembering what she had done to Galatea, the woman she'd come to care for so deeply, then remembered Poppy's attempt to help her after the battle and how hard she had to physically push herself to prevent an accident hat she would forever live to regret.

The a loud _**bang**_ echoed in her ears. Minerva jumped, her green eyes fluttering open, hand searching for her wand, but it was no longer in her pocket. Nearly frantic, she looked to Professor Dumbledore and the moment their eyes met, she remembered why she was here in the first place. There was no war, no battle, no spells or enemies lurking about. She was in his office, playing chess- or was.

The wizard didn't need his Animagus abilities to sense the young woman's fear. He'd taken her wand for this very purpose, rendering her panicked and confused, forcing her to come back into reality, but she had needed more. She needed a physical reason for her mind to stay deeply rooted in the real world. Dumbledore stood up and moved closer to her, his vibrant blue robes flowing around him.

"You must relax your mind, my dear." The wizard reached out to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. Her eyes sparkled. "Drown out everything but my voice._ I _am the_ only_ thing that matters right now, Miss McGonagall. Let everything else fade into the background and disappear."

With every word he spoke, Minerva found her mind focusing on Professor Dumbledore's voice and eyes which never wavered. Slowly, everything that had been so dreadfully antagonizing and intimidating became no more than a mere whisper. She could hear the birds outside from the open window near by. The witch smiled at the sound, so calm and pure, then there was silence. A beautiful silence that she wanted to keep forever. It made her feel serene, safe and secure.

"Can you hear me?"

The green eyed witch nodded softly, then smiled to hide the slight butterflies in her stomach from how his words seemed to echo in her head.

"Good," he said with twinkling eyes. "Now, tell me what you hear."

"Nothing. I heard the birds outside a moment ago, but not anymore."

"Try finding them again, I think you'll rather enjoy them."

Minerva nodded in agreement. She closed her eyes, imagining the chirping she heard a moment ago. For a moment she wasn't sure if it had worked, but then she heard a soft song sound over the grounds. Satisfied, she opened her shining green eyes. She liked this quiet focus.

"It's a lark."

"Indeed it is." The wizard smiled, then removed his hand, leaving a rather warm impression on her shoulder. "A beautiful sound they make too, though if I had a choice, I'd take Fawkes's laments any day." He sat down and motioned towards their uncompleted game. "Would you like to continue?"

The green eyed witch considered him with a smirk on her lips. "So that you can take advantage of your rather unfair lead?"

Professor Dumbledore shrugged with a hint of charming humour on his face. "Can't blame a man for wanting to win. I do believe it's your turn."

Minerva rolled her eyes and sighed, giving into his taunts. There really was no changing her professor's mind when he was set on something. "Fair enough, but the next time we play, I want a fair match."

"Who said you're going to lose?" She threw him a glare and the wizard chuckled. "All right, it's a deal. We'll play every week from now on, but only after your lessons have been completed. You have my word."

Satisfied, she smiled and then began plotting how to halt his victory from being so swift. He basically had her in a corner, but that had its own set of advantages. She played on defence, instead of offence.

"Professor, for the sake of knowledge and understanding, what sort of tactics will we be practicing?"

"I believe learning how to restrain those deadly instincts of yours will be a tremendous help for when we actually work on pulling your mind out of your battle haze. Depending on how that goes, we'll work on merging restraint into your instincts, allowing you to be fully aware of your surroundings and actions so you'll be able to act with conscious and moral decisions. It doesn't mean you'll be any less deadly..." Minerva couldn't help but lightly shudder at his last words. Dumbledore raised a brow. "Does it bother you that Professor Merrythought has trained you to be an assassin?"

"No," she flatly stated, as he made his move on the board. "It doesn't bother me what I've been trained for. It bothers me to think of who I'll assassinate and how many will die by my hands."

She set a rather clever trap that took him several moves to manoeuvre around, and cost him his rook. The professor frowned, not just from his situation but her words as well. There wasn't much he could say to that. She knew that she'd be fighting treacherous Dark wizards and witches, those who found pleasure in killing and torture, but it didn't make it any easier knowing that she'd be taking their lives. Stunning and taking prisoners was not entirely an option in this war, especially with the Untergang trained to be just as deadly with hand-to-hand combat as they were with magic. Killing them was the best, and safest option there was.

"Maybe with time and if, or when I get onto the battlefield I'll have a different mindset, but for now I'm just a girl who's trapped with these skills within a castle, crowded with a babbling, bumbling, band of baboons that have yet to realize the horrifying clouds looming over our heads. Quite honestly, Sir, it feels a little moronic."

"I don't blame you for feeling such. I tried to convince Professor Merrythought to start your training in your sixth year for this very reason, but she would have none of it. I'm glad she trained you when she did though- oh, and check-mate."

"What?" The witch looked down at the board, her lips pursed. Indeed, he'd caught her off guard with his knight. Sneaky little bugger. With a small sigh of defeat she smiled, then her eyes glanced at the clock. "Well, good game, Professor, and I'd ask for a re-match here and now, but I really should be getting back to the common room, it's almost nine."

The wizard pulled back his sleeve, glanced at his wrist-watch then clicked his tongue. "What a shame, I was looking forward to winning again."

The witch grinned as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "I wouldn't push your luck, Professor. I know your style of strategy now."

He frowned, he hadn't thought of that, but then chuckled, pulling out her wand from his pocket as he did. "You really are one of the cleverest witches I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, my dear. Here, you may have your wand back."

She took it from his hand, her fingers lightly brushing his. "Thank you, Sir, I'll see you next time. Have a good night, Professor Dumbledore."

"You too, Miss McGonagall."

She left the room without another word or glance back, but she did leave with a smile on her face. A smile that soon faded upon hearing a certain Slytherin's voice echo in the hallway after she closed the classroom door behind her.

"Well, McGonagall, you were in there for a long time. Two-and-a-half hours since Animagus Studies ended, to be precise."

Minerva turned her head to the side to see none other than Tom Riddle skulking out of the shadows. His eyes had grown much darker since she had seen him last; more cold, calculating and they seemed hungry for something that could never satisfy him. His skin had become several shades paler as well. If anyone had noticed any change, they'd suspect it was due to malnutrition or from his time at the orphanage, but Minerva knew better. She could see the dark blemishes on his neck that he tried to keep hidden using his uniform and she didn't need a medi-witch to tell her that it was due to his dabbles in Dark magic. There were always signs of one's body adjusting to new, demented ways of performing their talents.

"Spying on me, Riddle?"

The boy moved his shoulders up in an unconcerned shrug. "If you call patiently waiting to talk someone _'spying',_ then in your definition, yes."

The witch looked at him with an incredulous stare. "You waited for two-and-a-half hours just to _talk to me? _Don't you have anything better to do with your time?"

"Not entirely." He took a step towards her, his eyes brightening warmly as he looked into her own green orbs. "I'm curious, Minerva- do you mind if I call you that? It's such a pretty name."

"No, I _do _mind, Riddle. We are _not_ friends."

"Call me Tom, Minerva, because I _do_ wish we could be. You are so very powerful and mysterious, two things that I greatly admire."

"The only thing that you admire, _Riddle,_ is control and getting others to do your bidding. Good night." She turned around, but he grabbed her hand. His skin felt like pure ice; it was so cold that it stung and it made her skin crawl with how unnatural it was.

"I could use a witch like you, Minerva. Things _will _be changing around here and you'll _want_ to be on the right side when that happens."

"Sorry, I don't associated with sly, callous snakes as yourself!" With that, she snapped her wrist from his grasp and stormed off without another word. Only later would she find out exactly what he was trying to recruit her for, and goodness knows she would be glad she never accepted.

**December 7th, 1941:**

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Protego!"_

"_Incarcerous!"_

Minerva sighed. It was a repeat of yet another boring day of supervising the forth years dueling. It wasn't the fact that these two in particular didn't have skill; Mr Kingsley Shacklebolt was extraordinary at his charm work, while Amelia Bones was highly commendable for her dueling strategies. Both candidates were evenly matched, neither backing down from their position for very long. It astounded Minerva what they were capable of at their age, to the point that she knew, had they been born a few years earlier, one or both of them would be taking her place in her private lessons. Especially Bones; she gave her the chills of how much she reminded Minerva of herself. She often wondered if Cayden had the same knack for power as she did. Her little brother was gifted, that couldn't be denied, but to what extent? Had their birth order been switched, would he be in same position that she was? Minerva shook her head to clear such thoughts. Just thinking about her beloved little brother in her situation made her shiver.

No, her boredom was more along the lines that she was simply beyond anxious to get this day over with. Something hadn't felt right all day and Minerva desperately wanted to catch Galatea for an update on recent events, mainly so she could attempt to sleep tonight without worries, but also for a chance to talk with the woman. She surprised herself as to how much she missed those frightful lessons with Galatea, and the small, though rather personal chats they shared together. The witch never forgot the look in the elder woman's pale blue eyes upon informing her that she held no hateful contempt towards her because of the silence of truth.

"Everyone, put down your wands! Put down your wands this instant!" The fierce, shocked tone nearly made Professor Merrythought's voice unrecognizable, but the seriousness of her words was enough that it made them obey her in a heartbeat. Minerva wheeled herself around, quickly maneuvering herself towards the woman as she held her hand up, calling for silence. "What I bring to you at this hour is news of devastation, yet the result..." she paused for a moment. The green eyed witch could have sworn she saw a tremble in the professor's thin lips. "Well, I'll let you decide. Several hours ago, in what was morning in Hawaii, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor."

"What?" a seventh year Hufflepuff breathed rather loudly, her eyes in shock.

"The Untergang had immense involvement, that can not be disputed. Several of the American Legion of Magic's Specters were killed along with countless civilians, magical and Muggle. Make no mistake, this was an attack of great precision. The death toll is unknown, however, it's estimated that no less than a few thousand lives have perished." Galatea waited for the news to settle into every student in the room, gazing upon them with an emotion that Minerva considered to be confliction of a great magnitude before she finally spoke again, "As a result, the Americans_ will_ be declaring war on Japan, and consequently, will be joining the war."

It took a moment or two, but eventually a Ravenclaw piped up, "The Americans are in the war..." It was a whisper that set off a outcry of tremendous joy. _Finally,_ the United Kingdom had the ally they have been desperately trying to recruit for several long, tedious years.

But it was not a joy Galatea could stand and she quickly fled the room, and whether she liked it or not, with Minerva tearing after her. The green eyed witch had to physically pry her way out of the ecstatic room in order to follow, but she managed it and had no intention of letting the woman leave her sight without another word spoken between them.

"Professor, wait!" she called, but Galatea didn't glance her way, she just kept walking in a brisk manner. She didn't speed up to get away when Minerva ran after her, nor did she show any sign of resistance towards the girl following- though it was blatantly obvious she wished the Gryffindor would leave her alone. A sad but curious demeanor carried the girl as she turned the corner and finally got near the woman.

"Galatea, please," Minerva's cold hand reached around Galatea's nearest arm, slightly tugging her back, "talk to me."

"No." Her tone was flat, signalling she didn't want to continue this. Under normal circumstances, the green eyed witch would have complied and walked away, but she didn't. Her eyes glared at the woman.

"I'm not asking."

The woman was clearly struggling to maintain composure and full control of the situation. The fact that she had lost grip on both of these was making her vulnerable and it was beginning to show, her pale blue eyes wavered between fury and desperation. "Minerva, I am first and foremost your teacher-"

"Galatea, please do not cut me off like Màthair would! Yes, I am your student; _yes, _I have no authority to demand answers; and _**yes,**_ I am only sixteen, but the devil with all of that! I thought we were past this..."

The elder witch tried to part her lips and mutter a few words, but she couldn't. Her chest shuddered very slightly and she clenched her jaw, somehow drawing upon the strength to not break down in front of the girl. From her reaction, one thing was clear to Minerva; but dare she ask the question? Eventually she voiced her thoughts, although granted it was in a very calm and concerned manner.

"Who died?"

Without warning, the woman grabbed her student's hand, forcing them into the empty classroom nearby. Galatea closed the door with a bit more force than usual after forcing the Gryffindor in first. Her arms were shaking as she made no attempt to turn around to face Minerva, yet she spoke, and that was all that mattered.

"Matthew Larcille, he was an American Specter."

"How did you know him?"

The woman nearly laughed, muttering something about _'cold irony'_ before she finally turned around. "It was long ago, 1895. I was 32, if I remember correctly. Matthew and I... we were very close at one time, until... No, I should _not _be telling you this. _Any_ of this for that matter!" Minerva's heart ached at seeing how painful it was for Galatea to stop herself from explaining what her heart desperately needed to.

"Minerva, I am so sorry. I have done this to you so many times, lead you on with so many things, yet, only letting you see so much before I cut you off from ever gaining the knowledge... I do not know how you do it, go on without hating me for what I torment you with. I doubt I would have been able to take it. I would have gone mad, completely and utterly mad..."

"It helps to know that you at least give a damn about how I feel and show it. Màthair never does, not on this 'topic' at least, and even then it's so very little."

"Speaking of your m-... Isobel," Minerva carefully noted the abrupt halt and it occurred to her that she'd never heard Galatea speak the words 'your mother', as the woman continued to speak. "I had a little chat with her about a month ago. I've convinced her to let you stay here whenever you wish during the holidays."

"I highly doubt that she- wait... _you_ convinced her? I can stay _here, _at _Hogwarts?"_

Galatea nodded cautiously. "If that's what you wish..."

"It is, Merlin, it is! I just don't understand-" Minerva abruptly ended her sentence, smiled then shook her head. "But at this point I don't even care. Thank you, so much!"

"You're very welcome, my dear. Consider it an early Christmas present..."

_Christmas. Presents. Family. Cayden, Malcom and Papa._ Her face must have displayed her thoughts for Galatea tilted her head and narrowed those crystal blue eyes in concern.

"Something wrong, child?"

Minerva bit her lip. "I can't. I can't stay here. Cayden, Malcom and Papa would be rather saddened if I didn't attend Christmas at the Manor this year. Especially considering I haven't been home in over a year. I want to stay, I really do, but I just can't bring myself to."

To her surprise, Galatea smiled - granted it was a little one, but still. "I understand, my dear. Keeping those you love close to you is a commendable thing, and I'm proud of you for thinking about your siblings and father despite the fact that you'll have to deal with Isobel - though I wonder if she'll be lighter on you for attending..." the woman shrugged. Galatea's logic made sense and the more Minerva continued to think about it all, the more she came to realize that the situation brought up something of an advantage for her. If Isobel truly wanted her daughter to be with her, she would act accordingly, even if it was just a little bit... right?

Now was time to test those waters. The green eyed witch needed answers, and for the first time, she had leverage.

**December 14th, 1941:**

The train whistle blew, signaling it's arrival into Hogsmeade station and startling Cayden to the point that he jumped in the process.

Minerva giggled softly. "You're such a scaredy cat."

The little boy blew a fit of raspberries, forcing another giggle out of his sister. He liked it when she was happy, although, more often than not she wasn't, or at least didn't show it like he wished she would. Blissfully ignorant some would call him, but like many children in his situation, they just forgot about the war and used their abundance of energy as a coping mechanism. There were some days that Minerva wished she could be like that, blissfully ignorant, happy and content to being as happy as possible, forgetting the rest of the world existed.

The green eyed witch glanced to her left where the half-giant stood beside his new companions. The puppy was now much bigger, which also meant his slobbering was much more intense. The very thought made Minerva shiver in disgust. Malcom too had begun to change, and for the better in her opinion. Her brother had finally woken up to what friendship really meant and was discovering which morals he wanted to live by, and it seemed that Hagrid was less troubled these days with someone to talk to, especially after the news of his father's death.

"Minerva!" a honey glazed voice panted from behind. It was so unmistakeably Poppy's that the green eyed witch had to smirk and roll her eyes when she turned around. Her Prefect partner was at her side in seconds, clasping an arm around Minerva's own cold one. "You better not even think about leaving without me!"

"I wouldn't dream of it, dear sister! Speaking of which, where's Rola?"

"She finally managed to convince her mother to let her say at Hogwarts with Xavier over the holidays, considering it's the last time he'll be here."

"And with Gusta and Mona staying as well, that leaves the compartment to ourselves-"

"Hey!" the little boy piped up with his bottom lip puckered out in a pout as he crossed his arms and whined a bit. "I'm riding with you too!"

He really was a sight to see when frustrated, forcing both ladies to laugh, unable to hold it inside.

"Of course you are, Cayd!" Minerva said with a smile as she picked him up and twirled him around, the pair of them breaking out into peals of laughter. As she spun the boy she caught sight of a lone wolf in the shadows, watching them with a gleam in her eyes. The green eyed witch didn't need to look twice to understand that Galatea wanted to speak with her. With a small nod towards the wolf, she placed Cayden down, who whined it protest. She kissed his forehead then whispered into Poppy's ear, "Go on and board without me, I'll meet you two in the carriage."

Looking into her sister's eyes was really all Poppy needed in order to understand.

"All right, just don't take too long." The healer-in-training turned and grabbed the little boys hand. "Come on Cayden, let's go get a seat."

"I wanna pick it out!" said the boy with a little bounce as he grabbed poor Mico's cage. The cat growled slightly with the sudden sway of his confinement. Minerva smirked at her brother's instant excitement, then made her way through the crowd and towards the wolf - or rather Professor Merrythought - with a smile.

"Come to say good-bye, Professor?" the witch asked quietly, not wanting anyone to hear them.

Galatea smiled. "I have indeed, Miss McGonagall, and a little something else." The elder witch's hands unfolded from their long sleeves, revealing a small rectangular present underneath. It wasn't wrapped in fancy, bright colors that would have drawn immediate attention, rather more of the modest ones for a nice, respectable gift. "I want you to have this."

Minerva gently took the box in her hands and removed the lid, her eyes only leaving Galatea's when she could take a peek at the present inside. There was a slight shine of polished silver as the light bounced off the object, revealing the young woman's face within the reflective glass, while extensive, beautiful engravings formed a border surrounding it. It was a mirror.

"It was my father's, so I expect you to take good care of it, especially since it is a two-way mirror." Minerva's lips parted in shock as she looked up at the woman with wide eyes. The elder witch smiled again. "I have the other in my pocket and there's a Protean charm on them so that whenever one of us needs to talk, we will be notified."

"Wow, I... Galatea, thank you." She grew rather silent while closing the box, struggling to find the right words to say and _how_ to say them. It had been so very long since she's said one word in particular, since she'd heard it or even felt it. Love.

The woman smiled and placed her hand on Minerva's shoulder. "Never forget that you will _always_ have someone looking after you. All you have to do is ask, and I shall bring you back here within five minutes."

What her words meant, and more importantly how she said them, reminded the Gryffindor of how she wished her relationship with Isobel to be. But it wasn't and probably never will be in the near future, making Galatea all that Minerva ever really had. An impulse came over her. It wasn't instinctual, more heart-felt than anything, and it made up for what she could not force herself to say. She hugged the elder witch.

It took a moment, but eventually Galatea gave into the emotion, one she had been trying to suppress for over fifteen years, and wrapped her arms around the green eyed girl that she so desperately wanted to tell _everything_- to the point that it made her heart physically feel like it was shattering from the inside. Yet, having Minerva in her arms with a mutual affection and understanding was enough to sustain her for a lifetime. It didn't matter that the girl would never find out about her connection and relationship with Isobel, or the full aspect of the girl's involvement which completely changed the scheme and path of their lives. What _did _matter was that Minerva was safe and that she trusted her. Love could come later, if it wasn't already there. She could wait. Merlin, for moments like this, she could wait forever.

A loud train whistle sounded, signalling the one minute warning- much to both witches' chagrin. The elder lightly kissed the Gryffindor's dark hair then slowly began moving her arms back to her side, stopping for a moment at the girl's shoulders. No matter what happened now, they would always be connected- in more ways than one -and Galatea felt confident, now more than ever, that Minerva could hold her own.

"You best be off, darling, the train will not wait, not even for you."

"I'll contact you when I get to the Manor, then. Hopefully things will go smoothly and I can get away for a few minutes."

"Minerva, if there is one thing I must ask of you, it would be this; do not let Isobel know of your training and our relationship."

The girl smiled rather deviously. "I had no intention to, Galatea."

The woman raised a brow curiously. The girl had a plan up her sleeve, that much was obvious. _Merlin, she really can not leave well enough alone! Not that I blame her. I would probably do the same in her position- if not more._

Galatea sighed with a small laugh of amusement. "Okay, just be careful and remember: _no magic."_

"You have my word. Goodbye, Galatea, and thank you."

The woman didn't feel the need to reply, knowing she'd just say something that would complicate matters- it was conflicting enough to watch Minerva turn around, placing the small hand-held mirror in her pocket, then dash onto the train. She loved that girl with more than words could describe, however, her long ago promise and commitment was holding everything back, threatening to break her from the inside. There were some days, ones like today especially, where Galatea wished she didn't give a damn about Isobel, but alas, the woman had a hold on her that was so deeply rooted, the only comparison was a mother-daughter bond.

"Come on, girl, you're going to make us late!" the conductor yelled from his carriage window.

Minerva got into the car, feeling the woman's eyes following her every step she took. It felt right somehow having Galatea there, watching her every move, unlike with her own mother. She knew that no matter what happened, she'd be coming back to Hogwarts in the end, and Galatea would be waiting. That alone was the biggest comfort anyone could have.

As the doors closed, the green eyed witch moved to look out the window. Along with a few other students and professors that had come down to the village, Galatea was there as well, standing out of the shadows and waving the children goodbye, but never once taking her pale blue eyes away from the girl she adored.

"Oh my god, is that-"

"That couldn't possibly be-"

"She's _never_ on the platform!"

"Is that Professor Merrythought waving?"

"_Merrythought?_ Show emotion? Sit down you fool, you must be as blind as a bat!"

Minerva smiled at all their remarks, quickly making her way to Poppy and Cayden's cab.

"There you are, Min!" the honey glazed voice spoke as she slid open the door, "What do you make of the latest buzz about Merrythought?"

"It's all rather amusing really. It's good to give people a shock once and a while I suspect, make them realize that everyone's human."

Poppy shook her head in amusement while snickering quietly.

"What were you doing, Minvey?" Cayden asked innocently as he pried Mico from the cage. The cat squirmed around before the boy finally set him on the seat and scratched his ears.

"I was saying goodbye to a friend," the green eyed witch replied rather calmly. "She wanted to give me something before I left."

Mico jumped over to Minerva's side and curled up in her lap, with absolutely no curiosity towards the conversation, unlike the little boy who's eyes grew rather wide. "Oooh, can I see it, Minvey?"

"I'm sorry, Cayd. It's private." She hated keeping things from him, but she wasn't about to misuse Galatea's mirror.

The little boy crossed his arms in disappointment. "Oh, fine."

They sat there in silence for several moments, all three of them listening to the train's wheels chugging along. Poppy had gotten out her crossword puzzle book and Cayden seemed quite content with staring out of the window. Minerva, feeling a bit guilty for neglecting Mico these past few weeks, decided to play with the fluffy creature. Quite thankful that they could still use magic on the train, the clever green eyed witch rubbed her hands together, causing a pulse of magic to form from the friction before she quickly separated her hands, revealing a small, glowing orange ball with unnatural energy-like feathers on it's side. It looked a lot like Auxilium, not that Minerva had meant for it to.

The witch smirked, looking down at the cat's instant curiosity towards the floating object. His dazzling blue eyes were wide, his mouth open and he began to chatter like he always did when experiencing extreme curiosity. The dark haired witch could never figure out if he was saying 'mine' or 'I want it'.

"You want it boy?" The cat chattered a response, still staring at the ball and his little tail wiggled back and forth. "Then go get it!"

She released the ball, fluttering it around Mico's fluffy body, then down near the floor. The feline moved his paws in a fluster, scrambling to snatch the conjured object of interest. Minerva kept the cat on his toes, manoeuvring the ball around just enough so he could never quite catch it. She'd missed this, spending time for herself and the little fur ball. She made a mental note to let him walk with her around the castle more often when they got back.

Several minutes passed by, mainly in silence except for the few chatters from Mico and giggles from Minerva, before Cayden broke the silence with those five dreaded words of an impatient and rather bored child- those which would be repeated many, _many_ times during their journey.

"Are we nearly there yet?"

* * *

><p>Slowly but surely, the train was brought to a halt as it reached Platform 9¾. Snow was beginning to dust the ground in a soft, powdery blanket just in time for a white Christmas. Playing with Mico had kept Minerva's thoughts from surfacing, and it was a rather good thing too. She didn't want to be nervous, though part of her knew she should be. Her mother was unpredictable, and the fact that Galatea had talked with Isobel, somehow managing to get Minerva to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays, could make things rather interesting. Surely her mother would be glad to see her, after all, it had been over a year since the children have been home. Cayden was especially excited to get to the Manor, apparently Robert had promised to give him a new bike. As for Malcom, well, only Merlin knew. He hadn't said a word to his siblings while passing their carriage. He'd been that way for a while now, quiet and reserved, much like Isobel, and Minerva wasn't entirely sure if it was due to Hagrid's father's rather untimely death, or something else.<p>

Mico grudgingly sauntered back into his cage with his ears back and eyes narrowed. Cayden had wandered off somewhere to find Malcom and drag him over to their cab, leaving the two witches alone for the first time since the train departed.

"You all right, Min?" Poppy said as she folded her book and placed it into her bag. "I know you don't entirely relish the idea of coming back to Caluim."

The dark haired with shrugged, putting her wand back into it's case then sliding it down into her magically extended handbag. "I'm just unsure of what Màthair will do, other than that I have no problem with coming back. Sure, I'd rather stay at Hogwarts, but it'll be good to be back in the Highlands again."

"I'll agree to that. Papa says a lot of the Muggle men in the town have been drafted."

"That's a shame, although a grim reminder that we're seriously not done with this war. The Blitz might have stopped and the Americans may be in it, but that doesn't mean we've won."

"Indeed. I'll miss Peter, he was a rather funny lad."

Minerva laughed. "You said he was too brash and reckless for your liking."

The golden brown haired girl blushed a little. "He is, but that doesn't mean I don't care for him."

"You're all crazy. Gusta's now swooning over Kevin, Rola's madly in love- and will more than likely marry Xavier -and now you're off daydreaming about a Muggle boy who could never do anything around town without you yelling at him."

"Hey, I never said-"

"I found him!" Cayden's innocent voice carried across the train as he bolted towards his sister. "I found him, Minvey!"

Malcom hit his forehead with is hand and shook his head. "Cayden, I was in the loo, not hiding."

The little boy stuck his tongue out at his brother. "I still found you."

The Ravenclaw sighed in defeat, raising his hands up in surrender. "Someone please tell me we're ready to leave."

"I believe so." The dark haired witch glanced at her sister who was rummaging through her handbag. "Poppy, do you have everything?"

"Did I take out my _Healers Guide to Magical Herbs_? I can't- oh, never mind, I found it!" The girl closed her bag with a rather embarrassed look on her face. "I put it with the spell books instead of the potions and herbs."

The boys rolled their eyes while Minerva smirked. "All right, lead the way Cayd."

"Yeah!" The little boy bounced up and down a few times, his feet floating off the ground with his magic, before taking off towards the exit doors, nearly running into a few people in the process while muttering "Sorry" under his breath. The boy had just as much energy as Rolanda did, and combined with Minerva's affinity of magic, he was a bouncing ball of gleeful destruction.

"Remind me to hold his hand next time you order him to _'lead the way'_." Malcom said rather sternly, though with a smirk on his face. "He really shouldn't leave his magic unchecked when he's this excited."

"Agreed. We'll have to remind him and keep him under constant surveillance when in town this year."

"Come on you slugs, you're taking forever!" his voice echoed from the hall as he waved at them. He was absolutely beaming with happiness. "I see Màthair! Come on, come on, hurry up!"

"Goodness, he's excited!" Poppy exclaimed as they picked up their pace, Malcom now in front of them, dragging his trunk behind. When they reached the exit and began to take the stairs, Minerva took a deep breath, clearing away any nervous thoughts. She touched her pocket, making sure the mirror was still there in reassurance, then proceeded out of the train.

Sure enough, Isobel was nearby. At the moment her hazel eyes were solely focused on her baby running towards her.

"Muma!" Cayden exclaimed, leaping into his mother's arms with great joy. The woman laughed softly and spun him around.

"Oh, my dear boy, how you've grown so much!" she kissed his cheek then tussled his hair, whispering words of affection his ear. By now, Minerva was used to the sight of her little brother getting every bit of love and attention that she never experienced, therefore it didn't hurt to see it anymore, but that didn't mean she was any less disappointed. Yet, that didn't compare to the unnerving sensation that crawled through her skin when Isobel's emotionless eyes caught sight of her daughter. She'd completely stopped in her tracks, nearly freezing in place for a moment until she blinked.

"Minerva... you came." The green eyed witch noted a hoarse edge engraved within her mother's voice. It wasn't surprise or happiness, more like a slight bit of anger mixed with weary nerves. But Minerva pushed that aside and smiled. She had a job to do - protect her relationship with Galatea from becoming known to her mother. Judging by Isobel's reaction, the green eyed witch could easily conclude that things were going to get_ very _interesting over the course of the holiday break.

"Of course I did, Màthair." Malcom looked her way, his brows furrowed. Minerva looked at him with the same expression of confusion, then looked back at her mother. "Why wouldn't I?"

Isobel stared blankly at her for a moment, then smiled weakly. It hadn't been one of joy, more like forced displeasure. "Let's get you all home. Your father will be happy to know that we'll all be together for Christmas."

Minerva noticed that her mother didn't comment about her own happiness of having the whole family home, despite this knowledge, she hid her worry with a smile at the mention of her father. It'd been too long since she had last heard his voice or felt his embrace.

"What in Merlin's name was that about, Min?" Malcom whispered in her ear.

"I'm in the same boat you are, Malcom." She sighed. She hadn't exactly lied to him, Minerva really didn't have any idea as to why Isobel would have reacted as such, especially after seeing her absolutely joyous reaction towards Cayden being back in her arms. It just pointed towards the question of why Isobel had never entirely shown affection towards her eldest child and only daughter. Although, this time it seemed a little different. Isobel never froze like that unless something had truly unnerved her. Minerva could only draw the conclusion to the fact that Isobel had sincerely thought- whether that was more along the lines of _'hoped'_ was unclear -that her daughter was staying at Hogwarts over the holiday break.

_You're lying, Min._ Poppy glanced at her with fake concern, on the inside she was glaring at her sister.

_He doesn't need to know the details. Though believe me when I say this, I don't entirely know why Màthair acted as she did. She may have received word from Galatea that I might not be attending, but I never told her that I wouldn't be._

"Poppy? Poppy, dear, we're over here!" Mr Pomfrey called from the side, with his arm placed around his wife's waist.

"Well, that's my call. Good luck, Min, and contact me if you need anything!" Poppy kissed Minerva's cheek and then sped off towards her parents, entering a loving embrace.

"Come along, Malcom, Minerva." Both siblings glanced at each other, shrugged slightly, then walked towards their slightly impatient mother. "I didn't bring the portkey, so I'll have to side-Apparate you boys first."

_Of course. _Minerva shrugged slightly in a nonchalant. "I still have to grab my luggage bag, I'll be right back."

Isobel didn't even glance or nod in acknowledgement that she heard her daughter's words, instead she just gently placed her hands on the boys shoulders then disappeared with a soft **_pop_.**

The green eyed witch shook her head then turned around, making her way to the luggage car. She only had a few things stored in there, in particular an emerald green cloak that she'd come to wear more out of habit than out of necessity for warmth. Her body temperature always ran a little lower than most, Minerva noted, especially since the incident in her fourth year. In fact, she'd come to realize that she hadn't shed a single tear since then. There had been plenty of opportunities where she was upset and angry enough that her eyes should have spawned tears, but they never did. The witch slightly shuddered, wondering if that's how her mother started to become so emotionless, then scratched that idea quickly from her mind. What she'd gone through was a very unique experience. She'd become an Animagus, an amazing feat to complete, adding onto her already special ability intertwined within her body, Avrenim, her astral. The figment of herself had yet to reappear, though she was always self-conscious about feeling _'need',_ that one aspect never changed.

She didn't have to wait long to get her trunk. She thanked the wizard who gave it to her then sped on her merry way back to where her mother and brothers had disappeared from. Half way there, Isobel reappeared in the same spot she was before, although her eyes were a little more narrowed and her facial expression was completely blank. There wasn't much Minerva was going to get out of her mother by looking at her expression it seemed, though that was sadly expected.

The green eyed witch summoned her Gryffindor pride and continued her confident stride towards the woman, nor breaking eye contact with her. For anyone else, it would have been extremely awkward. Isobel had yet to really acknowledge her daughter's existence except for a few words that quite honestly didn't mean anything. Minerva could have acted like Isobel was a complete stranger she had met a few moments ago and nothing would have changed.

"Why are you here?" the woman finally muttered from her lips, but it was so soft that her daughter barely heard it, even with her advanced hearing. The next thing Minerva knew, Isobel placed a hand on her shoulder and they Disapparated from the station. They appeared in her parent's study, not far from the living room, and all-in-all it would have been fine, except for the fact that no one else was in the room. Isobel's grip on her shoulder had tightened and she was glaring at her daughter in a demeanour that would have very much frightened Malcom or Cayden.

"Why are you here?" she asked again, more clearer and louder this time. Her eyes had changed, surprisingly towards anger and resentment.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me, after all it is Christmas and family should be important, Màthair." Minerva spoke from her heart, granted it was from when she was on the train and not now, but that was all details.

"What did _Professor_ Merrythought tell you?"

Minerva's eyes narrowed at her mother's bitter tone towards the woman she held so much respect for, but she kept her tone even with her slightly innocent persona, which was a bit more difficult with the increasing pressure from Isobel's grip. "What do you mean?"

She was playing with her mother a little bit and she knew it, but she had to in order to get her point across. If she was going to stay here, there were a few things that had to be set straight, especially if her own mother was going to question her reasons for coming home, for Merlin's sake!

"What did _she_ say to you?"

"She has said lots of things, Màthair, she _is_ my Defensive Arts teacher."

"You _know_ what I mean."

Minerva shrugged. "Not entirely. She's told me a lot of things, though if you want something more specific then you'll have to go into details."

"Do not toy with me, Minerva Margaret McGonagall, _this-is-not-a-game!"_ the woman seethed.

"Isn't it though, Màthair? My life seems to be a game to you." The younger witch took a breath to erase the slightly sardonic tone, then flicked her eyes into Isobel's rather angry hazel ones. "I'll tell you what you want, if you tell me how you know Professor Merrythought."

"This isn't your place to bargain."

"No, actually it isn't _your _place. I want answers, but I've had to live without them for this long, I can wait 'til _someone_ folds. If I had one guess, I'd say you're used to people giving you all the answers. You can't stand to be kept in the-"

_**Slap.**_ It took Minerva a moment to realize what had happened, but when she felt the cold, burning sensation of her mother's hand print on her cheek, she knew what had occurred. Her green eyed flared, she kept repeating _'I can't use magic'_ in her head, listening to those thoughts and concentrating on her breathing, and nothing else. _Nothing else. _She could not let her training get the better of her this time, nor would she give the woman the satisfaction of seeing her with an expression of hurt.

"You should not have done that," the young woman growled after a few moments, knowing she had her body under compete control. Professor Dumbledore's lessons had paid off just enough for her to get past this.

"Pray, Minerva, tell me why not?" the hazel eyed witch grabbed Minerva's arm. It should have drawn a gasp from the Gryffindor out of surprise and pain, but it didn't. "You are_ my _daughter and I am _your_ màthair, I can do whatever I please."

Now, the green eyed Gryffindor officially had enough. Her mother was now reminding her that she somehow _'belonged'_ to her. Well, that just wouldn't do. Minerva _belonged_ to no one, least of all her mother. Without notice, she jerked the woman's hand away in a solid motion that made the woman stumble to the left, giving the green-eyed witch a moment to take several steps away from Isobel.

"I've heard differently, that you _can't_ do whatever you please, and I have a feeling you know who I heard such from. Mark my words, you're lucky I can't use magic right now, or you would have regretted that _dearly._ But no matter, my offer still stands, Màthair; tell me how you know Professor Merrythought and I will tell you what she told me," she shrugged, trying to come off as if the stinging of her cheek wasn't affecting her, "It's simple."

The woman looked absolutely astounded for a moment, and that's all it took for the younger witch to smile softly and walk away. She had the upper hand now and would wait until the redness on her cheek subsided before contacting Galatea. She didn't want to go back to Hogwarts just yet, and maybe now she could enjoy spending some time with her family. _Cayden, Malcom and Papa deserve that much... especially if I do go to war._

"Everything all right, Minnie?" Robert's voice asked from behind the wall. Minerva thanked whatever gods there were that he couldn't see her cheek. She certainly didn't want any sympathy for that.

The green-eyed witch turned her head slightly in the opposite direction, hiding the hand mark. "Yeah, I think it will be for now. Let me go get changed and unpack, I'll be down soon and can give you a proper greeting then."

She left the hall, hearing her father's voice mumbling something about _'plans going too far'._

* * *

><p><strong>If anyone is curious, "<strong>_Green Eyes_**" really was a popular song in 1942. If you go Wikipedia and type in the song, you'll get the lyrics... I admit nothing. Anyway, I'm off to dig into my WWII notes and research a few things of 1943, then will be writing profusely to get Chapter 19 on time!**

**Many thanks to my betas who have been putting up with not only their own life chaos, but my own as well. Kudos to you two, you guys are the best!  
>~LinK<br>**


	20. Progress

_**It's the story of your life, you're tearing out the page**_

_**New chapter on underway**_

_**The story of your life, you live it every day**_

_**You can run, you run**_

_**But you won't get away**_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**~First; **I have two wonderful Betas that are willing to put up with my crazy American mind and schedule, along with _**somehow**_ dealing with their own hectic lives and stories. You two are amazing and I don't thank you enough for everything that you do!

**~Second; **Although I was aware I would be catching a plane on Friday... I had no idea what time the flight would be until about 3 days after I posted last chapter- so I apologize for telling you all it would be on time! That being said: I'm on vacation. A _**very **_much needed vacation. However, my betas are not :(  
>Along with that fact, I'm graduating in 56 days and I've a bad feeling that life is going to get hectic. I will do everything in my power to get the next PoaG updates up within about a week or so between each other (unless otherwise stated).<p>

**~Third; **FanFiction had a bit of a slip-up last week with emails and a few other things, so make sure that you did read last week's update- email or not, and enjoy :)

**Beta#1 note: (Yes Spin, that's me :P)**  
>I would like to offer my apologies. I have been absolutely hammered by real life this past few weeks and haven't been very attentive at all! Spin picked up the slack (cos she's awesome) but now we're getting back to ...well... as normal as the three of us can be! Keep reviewing people! LinK needs to know how AWESOME she is! :D:D:D<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19 - Progress<br>**

**December 15st, 1942:**

It was near midnight when Minerva awoke to the feeling of the mirror suddenly becoming quite warm. She'd fallen asleep, clutching the gift in her hand, rather exhausted from a day of catching up with her father and pretending that nothing had happened between her and Isobel- not that it was too difficult, her mother seemed just as keen on ignoring the situation as she was. Although the green eyed witch knew she should feel frustrated, her victory in gaining some sense of control over her life had left her with a small smile even as she woke up. She had completely meant to contact Galatea before she closed her eyes, although it seemed that her body was hell bent on giving the woman something to worry about.

Minerva almost smiled, realizing just how radically their relationship had changed since her first year at Hogwarts; from being the regular, cold-hearted woman displaying similarities to Isobel, then suddenly becoming her mentor who seemed to care so much about her, to now replacing what Minerva would expect to be her _'Seanmhair'_. The green eyed witch made a mental note to eventually figure out how exactly she should express that to the elder witch as she turned the reflective glass towards her.

"I'm here, Galatea."

"And thank Merlin for that, you had me down-right worried, child!" Her pale blue eyes were glaring at Minerva in a scolding fashion.

"I know, I'm sorry. I meant to contact you before I fell asleep, although that obviously didn't happen."

The woman smirked briefly. _"Obviously._ So, tell me, child, how did everything work out?"

The green eyed witch was tempted to roll her eyes and just express the events of the evening, when she caught herself. It was becoming increasingly easy for Minerva to slip into the same causal behaviour which Galatea was portraying.

"Surprisingly, nothing important occurred, however, she was rather shocked that I exited the train with Cayden and Malcom."

"Of that, I have no doubt," the elder witch eyed her curiously, "but is that all? Did she not pull you aside and ask questions?" Minerva shook her head, causing a moment of pursed lips from Galatea before the professor softened her features. "Well, I suppose that's for the best, we'll have to wait and see what else she does. Did the rest of your evening go smoothly? Are you glad to be back at the Manor?"

Minerva tilted her head. _How does she know I live in a 'Manor'? _It could have just been the woman's expectation, or purely her choice of words, but she had a feeling it was more than that- as if Galatea had been to her home before. The green eyed witch dropped her slightly puzzled facial expression with a shrug of her shoulders. "Quite wonderful really, I was able to talk to Papa about the recent town bustle- not that there is much, mind you; Caluim's a relatively small town."

The elder witch smiled softly. "Tell me about it."

Minerva obeyed quite willingly and naturally, telling the elder witch every little bit of the Muggle news. It felt good to be able to be this relaxed with someone other than her friends, sisters and sometimes Professor Dumbledore, almost as if she needed to be. Galatea just sat and smiled through the whole thing, listening to the young woman with amusement fluttering in her eyes. When Minerva finished she asked about Hogwarts, not entirely sure if the elder witch would answer in detail, but she did- well, more than expected at least.

"Oh, you know how it is. The students are pretty much gone from the halls and the castle is relatively quiet, except for Peeves managing to wreak some sort of havoc or another in his spare time. He was caught by Professor Dumbledore trying to tamper with the piping in the Staff Room lavatory and I believe the little bugger escaped rather unscathed, although I am not sure know how. Professor Dumbledore was quite annoyed by the incident, muttering about 'foul play' being involved." Galatea chuckled. "Speaking of the wizard, how are your lessons with him?"

"I've made a lot of progress. I'm learning to resist entering that chaotic haze and so far I have a fairly good grasp on the subject." _And it especially came in handy tonight,_ Minerva added in her head. "Thank you for agreeing to let Professor Dumbledore teach me, I know you and him don't particularly see eye-to-eye on learning restraint, but I'm very glad you did."

The woman sighed. "Yes, well, if it makes you happy, then the least I can do is put my feelings on the matter aside. I keep having to remind myself that you are still just a girl. Both your mentality and maturity are far too advanced for your own good, you know."

Minerva smiled. "So I've been told."

"In any case, we will resume our lessons next school year. You already have enough on your plate and I do not wish to add more lessons than necessary." The green eyed witch frowned. She'd been looking forward to continuing her lessons with Galatea, if anything so that they could further their relationship. The elder witch caught sight of this, her arm slightly twitched with the desire to grab Minerva's hand.

"This will not change anything, my dear, I promise."

"Except last time you said our lessons would be postponed, and it did change things. We didn't _talk_."

The woman held her breath for a moment, looking away from the mirror. "I had my reasons, child, not that I particularly enjoyed them. Believe me when I say this, I have no intention of ignoring you. You are far too dear to me for me to ever _completely_ ignore you."

Hearing those words from Galatea made the Gryffindor's heart swell with something that she still wasn't particularly familiar with- although she graciously welcomed it, especially when she _knew_ the woman meant every word.

**February 19th, 1942:**

A few things had changed since Minerva got back from Christmas; Augusta and Kevin Longbottom were actually sitting next to each other without words of deep criticism and aggravation flying in every direction. Instead, the words passed between the two were no longer filled with anger- some would even say they were _finally _developing their attraction. Apparently when Augusta told her story about hexing Mr Pringle to Kevin, he hadn't stopped looking at her with a bit of a smile, which was quite cute if Minerva was honest.

As for Rolanda and Xavier, well, nothing had really changed between them, and they were still absolutely inseparable, physically and mentally. Every now and then Minerva shut herself out of the girl's thoughts when she could feel Rolanda start blushing and giggling. The hawk-eyed girl had yet to tell him about her connection with her sisters. Minerva could hardly blame her, it might make him think that she was crazy, not that it would change much, but the mere concept might seem unfathomable to some- and besides, it wasn't entirely a big deal anyway when all three girls had grown up with their metal link since long before they could remember. It was natural to them, and they had learned how to respect each other's privacy long before now.

Pomona had apparently stayed most of the holidays in Hogsmeade, using her wand to make little Christmas trees for every child that was unable to go home. She found that she rather enjoyed seeing their faces light up with what she called 'hope', as cheesy as that sounded, but never the less it was true. Most of the children who stayed had either lost someone close in the war, were victims of the Blitz... or had simply lost _everything_. It was those few children of the latter that Pomona did a little more for. She tried doing something for them every day, which eventually helped them keep their heads up, and then ultimately smile. The Hufflepuff was good at that.

Hagrid had apparently been taunted by Riddle again, which wasn't surprising, although Malcom was quite furious about it when he got wind of it. He wouldn't tell Minerva what it was about though- which was rather disappointing- however, she did manage to figure out it had something to do with animals.

Yet, there was one thing that had not changed over the course of the winter break; her talks with Galatea. Even as school continued, they found time to keep in contact at least every other day. The elder witch agreed that it didn't entirely matter if Minerva's sisters or close friends knew about the mirror, considering they already knew about their relationship, which came in handy as it was rather hard to find time alone in the dormitory.

When they both had time, Minerva would stay after Defence Against the Dark Arts class and spend a few minutes with the woman. Usually they would talk about anything _but _the war or how training with Professor Dumbledore was going, however, this time was different and it was apparent the moment that the class had begun. Professor Merrythought's voice wasn't the problem, it was just as sharp and clear as ever, instead it was her instructions. She had briskly informed them to take notes from chapters thirty-seven to forty, then they were free to leave the class.

Professor Merrythought _never_ let her students leave before the bell, so no student complained, especially when their shocked faces did not even phase the woman. She simply muttered, "I want no talking", then returned to grading papers.

Minerva looked up from her notes every now and then, peering up at her professor, looking for some sort of signal that nothing was wrong, but Galatea never looked away from her work. The frowned, then returned to do the same. She had to quietly urge Poppy, Rolanda and Augusta to leave the classroom without her, but it worked. The dark haired Gryffindor stayed behind, taking notes at least seven chapters more than what was assigned, while secretly waiting for the very last student to leave before she stood up from her seat and wandlessly closed the door.

"Galatea, are you alright?" Minerva asked the woman as she walked up towards her desk, her concern willingly flowed within flowing through her words.

The elder witch breathed out a long sigh, then in slow, drawn out movements, she dropped her quill, removed her reading glasses then pinched the bridge of her nose. Her age was more apparent these days. Her once pitch black hair was noticeably grey and her skin had added a few more age-lines than she cared to admit.

"To be quite honest, Minerva, I'm not sure," she spoke quietly. "I'm rather tempted to cancel my subscription to _The Daily Prophet _for the sake of not hearing any more news about the war."

Galatea placed her hand down, opening her soft, pale blue eyes as she did then tapped a stack of papers on her left three times. It immediately changed into the _Prophet_'s morning paper. She didn't look at it, or Minerva, as she passed it to the girl.

The Gryffindor took the paper with a calm demeanor, bracing herself for something terrible, and it was a good thing she did.

_**Darwin, Australia Bombed By the Japanese; Hundreds Dead**_

The headlines said it all, and Minerva didn't particularly feel like reading all the horrific details. Even with the Americans now in the war, things still looked grim. She placed the paper down, swallowing the lump in her throat from just thinking about the death toll that was more than likely to be in the hundreds.

"It doesn't feel like it will ever end, does it?" Minerva whispered, watching the picture of the Japanese bombing the city.

"No, it does not and I fear it will continue well past the four-and-a-half years of the Great Muggle War. Merlin, that war was bad enough being purely in the non-magical world, but this one..." the woman exhaled with a tremble. "I do not know. I am terrified of the outcome. For the near seventy-nine years of my life, only once have I ever been as terrified as I am now. I can honestly say that I fear we will lose, even with the Americans involved, and I cannot imagine the horrific suffering that will occur if we do. Granted, it would take many years before we fall, but..." The woman placed her hands in her lap, suddenly aware of their trembling, then closed her eyes.

It dawned on Minerva that this was the first time Galatea had truly expressed her fears regarding the war with her present. It added another level of respect in her mind for the elder witch. The Gryffindor placed her hands around the woman's, her emerald eyes looking up at her face, but was not greeted with a mutual stare.

"Is that what scares you the most?" Galatea shook her head, prompting Minerva's next question. "Then what does?"

The woman slowly turned her face to look at her pupil, her eyes following at the same pace.

"I am surprised you have to ask that, child," she said in a whisper as she brought her hand to Minerva's cheek, rested it there for a moment, then placed a stray lock of hair behind the Gryffindor's ear as two tears slid down her cheeks. "What scares me the most, darling, is losing you to this war."

"Oh Merlin, Galatea..." the green eyed witch removed herself from her chair and wrapped her arms around the woman, doing her best to avoid the awkwardness of not being in a chair herself.

"I am sorry, Minerva, I should not be expressing myself like this in front of you, not with everything going on, not with the war..."

"I don't mind, truly, I don't."

"I know, but you have two years left and I shouldn't be pressing the issue."

"Then that's a good thing, right? You and Professor Dumbledore have two more school years to teach me the skills that I'll need to survive, and on top of that, I'll have my Auror training. If the war continues for the next four or five years, then I'll be more prepared than most ever could be on the battlefield."

The woman looked away. "Even so..."

But the bell rang, cutting Galatea off. Minerva rolled her eyes and quietly cursed.

"You better get going, darling. You have Animagus Studies soon and then your lesson with Professor Dumbledore... it's no use wallowing with an old woman anyhow."

"I can skip Animagus Studies today-"

"No, no, Minerva, you can not do that." Although her words were meant to be reassuring, her voice, still slightly dipped in anguish, didn't help matters. "People will wonder where you are and rumors will spread..."

"Oh, don't I know it!" The green eyed witch huffed. "I've had to deal with them most of my years here and I have never let them get to me too much. I don't care about them."

Galatea chuckled softly and a smile appeared on her face, her eyes staring at her softly, but she didn't say anything.

Minerva raised a brow in curiosity. "What is it?"

The elder witch shook her head softly, her smile still present. She stood up, then kissed the top of the young woman's head. "You remind me so much of Isobel when she was your age, especially when you speak so defiantly. I know you probably detest hearing such things, but believe it or not, you really do resemble her in many ways."

"Can you tell me more about her, how she was back then?"

Galatea pursed her lips. "I think it'd be best if I didn't. Maybe in a few years when it wouldn't entirely matter if Isobel knew about _us_."

Hearing those words, granted they were not guaranteeing anything, still made her heart soar with hope and love for the woman. She didn't know _why_ it mattered entirely that Isobel never found out about their relationship, or why it wouldn't matter in a few years, but she did know that Galatea was clearly tired of the lies as well. It was something they shared and something Minerva rather admired.

"I'd like that."

"I know you would, darling, Merlin knows you deserve much more than what I'll be able to tell you... I won't be able to explain in major detail though, I hope you understand that."

"I expected it to be quite honest."

"Good... and you really should get going, Minerva, you'll be late."

Indeed she was. For the first time in all her years at Hogwarts, Minerva was late to a class and didn't provide much explanation to it either, and rumors about her possibly having some secret affair started floating about. If anything, they were good for a laugh at least.

**March 19th, 1942:**

Walking down the corridor to the Transfiguration Department, Minerva held the folded note in her hand.

_Dear Miss McGonagall,  
><em>

_Your Career Advice appointment has been scheduled at 3:40pm in my office. If this time is by any means conflicting, please let me know before noon to reschedule.  
><em>

_Sincerely,  
>Professor Dumbledore, Deputy Headmaster and Head of Gryffindor<br>_

_PS: You may wish to keep your awareness skills ready._

The last line of the message was slightly puzzling to the witch, but then again the Transfiguration professor was known to be rather mysterious at times. Nevertheless, Minerva took heed of the hint and as she neared the classroom of interest she expanded her perception, letting her magic touch everything within forty feet of her vicinity. What she found surprised her, yet, she found it rather amusing as well. Professor Dumbledore had taken up Galatea's statue idea. There were four of them inside his classroom, ready to attack the first person who dared to enter. Two of them were positioned on either side of the door with their swords braced over their heads, while the other two were positioned on the far left and right of the room respectively, armed with a bow and several arrows. She noted that Professor Dumbledore was nowhere to be found, and while she thought this rather odd, she had a sneaky suspicion that he'd turn up sooner or later.

Upon arriving at the closed door, Minerva placed the parchment in her pocket and began flexing her fingers and rolling any kinks out of her neck, hoping to end this rather quickly and not to end up with a sore body the next morning from having not exercised her fighting skills for several months. Drawing her wand from her pocket, she silently wished she had brought Godric's sword with her, despite knowing she could very easily manage without it, having practiced just about every scenario in the book during Galatea's lessons.

The instant that the dark haired Gryffindor Prefect opened the door and took a single step into the room, she sensed the statues move. Diving for cover to avoid being sliced into several pieces, Minerva barrel-rolled on to the ground, the sound of metal clashing against stone ringing in her ears. The witch hardly noticed that the door had closed; there wasn't enough time to look around when the faint sound of the archers firing their arrows sounded off. Immediately thrusting her hands in front of her, she redirected the deadly shafts, nailing their owners' stone heads just in time for Minerva to roll to the side- dodging several more slashes and blows from her first opponents. Quickly bouncing back onto her feet in a brilliant display of agility, the witch raised her wand, exploding one of her two attackers, at the cost of giving the other time to bring his weapon around into a full swing.

Minerva didn't have time to dodge the blow. In a split second, her hands were suddenly calculating the precise location of the sword's hilt before she grabbed it, halting the sword's movements in mere moments before being hacked down herself. In one swift motion, she jerked the weapon free then plunged it into the statue's chest, piercing the metal armor and cracking the stone body.

Suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder. Yet, despite her mind deeply dwelling within battle, Minerva did not whip her head around and attack. Her awareness alerted her instead that it was Professor Dumbledore.

Letting go of the steel blade that was now trapped within its owner and placing her wand back into its pocket, the dark haired witch turned around with a smile, her eyes meeting his twinkling sapphires quite easily.

"Good afternoon, Professor."

The auburn haired wizard grinned. "Indeed, Miss McGonagall, and I believe congratulations are in order. You've finally managed to completely merge your awareness and restraint into your actions during combat."

He winked at her, and Minerva blushed under his appraisal. It was true, a month ago the green eyed witch would have still attacked anyone who dared to pull a stunt like Dumbledore did. She had been working hard in their lessons and only now had everything finally clicked into place.

"Thank you, Sir."

"You are more than welcome, my dear. Now, shall we get to business?" The wizard rubbed his hands together with anticipation as he walked over to his desk. As he and Minerva took their seats, Dumbledore pointed his wand at each statue, vanishing them into non-being.

"I know we have already discussed your wish to become an Auror, however," the wizard opened her folder that was conveniently placed on his desk, "I wish to elaborate a little further, if anything for the sake of normal advice which every student here receives. Now, I'm not going to ask you if you have changed your mind, as I'm quite sure you'd have told either myself, or Professor Merrythought, if you had. That being said, I hope you realize the other options you have in front of you."

"I am aware, Professor. According to Professor Merrythought I could easily get a job at _'Transfiguration Daily'_ with a snap of my fingers; however, I don't entirely see myself in a research field while there's a war going on." She smirked at the thought. She'd probably go mad just sitting at a desk, reading about the war then writing about magic. "Maybe after the war is over, provided that we win and that I'm still alive, I'll more than likely take up that career."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "She's right, you know. With your grades, activities and achievements, you really do have the world at your fingertips, my dear. That being said, don't underestimate your OWLs."

"I've already begun studying for them, Professor."

"Somehow I'm not surprised," the wizard said with a chuckle, his sapphire eyes twinkling with humor as he closed the folder. "Very well then, Miss McGonagall, I believe this concludes our meeting."

"Thank you, Sir."

Minerva was nearly at the door when Professor Dumbledore spoke up once again. "Oh, and Miss McGonagall, I wouldn't be surprised if Professor Merrythought has something up her sleeve for you soon. She may wish to test your abilities and make sure nothing has _'declined'_ in her perspective."

Minerva smirked. Yes, that sounded like something Galatea would do. The dark haired witch made a mental note to prepare for whatever doom the woman would try to impose next.

"Does this mean our lessons are over, Sir?"

"Unless you feel that you need extra practice, then for this school year, yes it does. Next year, we'll be working on Occlumency, and I believe Professor Merrythought intends to merge our lessons into her tactics."

_Lovely, a battle of the minds,_ the witch thought sarcastically. She wasn't entirely looking forward to the Legilimency and Occlumency lessons over the next few years, even though she knew they would be of vital importance to her later on.

**April 1st, 1942:**

With studying for her OWLs along with everything else piled on her plate, Minerva had completely forgotten about Dumbledore's hint about the possibility of a surprise lesson from Galatea. The woman hadn't displayed any suggestion of the sort that would make the green-eyed witch believe she had something planned. That was, until Minerva was walking back from a late night Quidditch practice.

As usual, Rolanda and Xavier had stayed behind, more than likely snogging intimately on the pitch, so the fact that Minerva began to get that funny feeling she was being watched was a bit disconcerting. Immediately, the dark haired witch expanded her awareness, but that only caused more confusion and alarm. There was no one around, not even fellow patrolling Prefects or professors.

It may have been her mind playing tricks on her as the Time-Turner was beginning to prey upon her emotions again. However, her instincts told her that it wasn't. After Dumbledore's final lesson of the year, Minerva had gained enough confidence within herself to keep the ruby decorated, silver sword with her at all times- and at this moment she exceptionally glad she did. Something just didn't _feel_ right. It was in the air... not that the mildly dense fog helped much with that.

Quickening her pace, the dark haired witch steered away from her route to Gryffindor Tower, taking the stairs down several flights. She wasn't sure where she was going until she finally felt Galatea in the hall to her right- well, not exactly, she was in her wolf form, which Minerva found rather odd. The woman hardly ever used her Animagus ability in the castle unless for good reason.

Armed with this logic, the dark haired witch dug out her wand and turned the corner cautiously. She saw the pretty, blue eyed, grey wolf just sitting there, staring at her in either amusement or irritation- Minerva could never tell with dogs.

"Professor?" the Gryffindor asked in a whisper. She didn't get an answer, however, as the wolf suddenly charged off to the left and down a corridor without warning. Immediately Minerva followed, dashing to try and keep up, praying that her awareness would keep her from running into anybody. The witch turned another corner at the end of the hall when the wolf's presence disappeared from her awareness. Now Minerva had reason to believe that something else was truly afoot. She was about to use her connection to alert Poppy and Rolanda when she heard the telltale sounds of stone moving and a familiar wrought-iron gate opening behind her. The witch narrowed her eyes, piecing together that this was the set-up for Galatea's surprise lesson.

Taking a deep breath, Minerva turned around and unsheathed her sword, traded its place with her wand arm and then proceeded to walk inside the enchanted Room of Requirement. Her green eyes were on full alert, as was her awareness. The woman had completely disappeared - who knew if she could make other objects do the same. She was prepared for statues, those freaky fear-conquering phantoms, Banshees, Werewolves... in fact anything _but_ the soft whimpering screams of Augusta.

It was maddening- even more so because she couldn't find her, but also because she was suddenly aware of two shadowy figures behind her. She could sense that they were solid, were not anyone that she knew and that they each held a wand and dagger within each hand. The combination was enough to kick Minerva's instincts into overdrive.

Wordlessly, she fired a stunning spell over her shoulder, then knocked away the dagger thrown at her head with her sword- easily slicing it in half. The moment that the metal pieces clanked to the stone floor, two new opponents came rushing in from behind her. Everything from that point was a blur of spells being fired to-and-fro with the occasional slicing of her blade. The dark haired witch had no sense of time she spent dueling these summoned opponents, instead her sole focus was getting to Augusta and finding Galatea. Every time that she would stun an opponent they would disappear into a cloud of smoke, forcing her to rely exclusively on her magical awareness for a few moments. Had anyone walked into the room, they would describe what they saw as a magical slaughterhouse for training young assassins.

Somehow in the midst of all the chaos, Minerva managed to find Augusta's quivering body in a corner. Her blonde hair was in disarray, her cloak ripped and torn at the hem, while blood was smeared on her uniform shirt. The terrified young woman's lips were trembling the same whispering scream over and over again. Suddenly, the mysterious attackers vanished from all of the green eyed witch's senses. She reevaluated the situation with her awareness several times, sweat beading on her creased brow, before she finally decided to turn around and sheath the- now dagger-sized -sword.

"Gusta?"

The blonde haired witch flinched and began to move from her cowering position on the floor to standing. "Go away, Min, leave me alone."

"Gusta, I'm here to help."

The girl's eyes flashed in anger as she yelled, "Leave, Minerva!"

"Like the devil I will! Gusta, you look as if you just came back from a dueling contest gone to hell, I'm not leaving you!"

But the hysterical girl didn't listen and her wand suddenly fired several hexes while her shaky legs carried her into a charge. Drawing upon every restraint tactic that she had learned, Minerva blocked the spells with a little more effort that she was used to against Augusta, then quickly grabbed her wrists, disarming her in the process, and pinned her to the wall. The blonde witch stared at her, completely terrified.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Gusta," Minerva reassured her, praying she would somehow hear the truth behind her words. "It's alright, you're safe."

"It's never safe..." she whispered. The dark haired witch was about to retort when- to her horror -her friend vanished into the same thick cloud of smoke as her previous opponents had. Minerva gasped and backed away, only to bump into Galatea, who finally revealed her presence.

"It is never safe, my dear," the elder woman said rather hauntingly, "but I think you have proved once and for all that your restraint lessons have paid off."

The green eyed witch turned around, her eyes narrowed and her face wore a frown of distaste. "How in _Merlin's name_ did you manage to make this room do all that? Hide from my awareness, vanish my enemies, and impersonate Augusta to the very last detail? Gods, Galatea, I had _every_ reason to believe she had been seriously harmed!"

"Which is exactly what I needed you to believe if I was to test you properly and to my satisfaction." Minerva huffed and crossed her arms, triggering a quick smirk from the elder witch. "You may not approve of my actions, dear, but they do work. You restrained yourself to resort to self-defence only and did not harm your friend- you also performed this quite brilliantly, I might add."

The green eyed witch sighed, letting go of her cross feelings, then adding a smirk on her lips in her reply, "Only _'brilliant'?"_

Galatea shrugged her shoulders with a small smile, then tapped the girl on the nose. "There is _always_ room for improvement, my dear."

Minerva laughed.

* * *

><p><strong>Right, so about that "no writing action for a while"... my claim was denied lol! No, I actually enjoyed writing these, mainly because they're in short intervals and didn't last very long haha!<br>Anyway, my dear readers; what do you make of this chapter? What's your guesses, theories, and ponderings on why Isobel and Galatea's relationship dwindled... you must have some sort of thoughts about this up there and I'd love to hear them! :D**

**Also, Em's Birthday is on the 27th so make sure to wish her a Happy Birthday! ;)**

**~LinK**


	21. The Scheme of Things

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

~Your Guardian Angel by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

~So, being **Chapter 20** and over **130k**, I'd like to point out that I had no idea that it would be this long so soon! I mean, I knew PoaG was going to be big, but my god. And we have thirty years to go! You are all crazy! My betas are even more so! ;)

**~Speaking of betas:** I'm very blessed to be working with two such amazing, talented writers! Between Em, Spin and myself, we've worked into some epic MMAD beta loop! lol Since it was Em's birthday on the 27th, Spin had the brilliant idea to write a continuum/epilogue of Em's story, **"A Wilful Perversion of Truth"** (which if you haven't checked out yet, you should!) and I had the pleasure of working with Spin on this project! I didn't mention it in the previous chapter because it would have been a dead giveaway, so go check it out!

**~I totally should have pointed this out earlier, so I'm doing it now;**  
>Since Spin was on the sidelines like all of you, reading and waiting, until chapter 15 she volunteered to be my "blind beta". Aka: she has no idea what's going on like all of you! (I don't know how you stand it, Spin. I tease you too much and you have all the access at your fingertips! Brave woman you are!)<br>That being said, Em has the fountain of knowledge, which can be a burden, mind you all ;)  
>Have I mentioned that I have wonderful betas? I love you two!<p>

**~To all those who review:** I say this just about every time, but I mean it, thank you so much!

**~Righto,** this is the school year of 1942-1943, and you all know what to expect right? The Chamber of Secrets will be opened! **Naturally, chaos will ensure..**

**Beta1 Note:** I totally do not deserve the praise LinK heaps on me...mainly because I am a terrible beta who doesn't actually beta things...or at least this week. But I shall strive to do better! So really all the praise goes to LinK and Spin this week! :S Bad Em ... very bad!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20 - The Scheme of Things<strong>

**June 26th, 1942:**

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon in Caluim, Caithness, especially at the Hooch's flat.

Rolanda subconsciously played with her necklace. Usually it was tucked underneath her uniform or shirt, hidden from the world. She hardly ever played with it, only when she was very anxious or distressed- and even then, she'd only ever toyed with it about three times in her life. It was her father's parting gift before vanishing from her life for a few days before turning up dead in London a week later. The necklace consisted of black, smooth ribbon and a small, topaz gem- the same color as her eyes - encased by a silver heart with little intricate designs that left small holes for the gem to shine through.

Never, not since the day she was given the gift, had she taken it off; yet, today she was contemplating it. Xavier would be leaving in a few minutes to join the Brombers. There was no doubt in her mind that he'd succeed with them; the Brombers were an elite group of flyers, running bombing raids by casting explosive charms and curses to-and-fro. They were brilliant and inspiring, but the thought of him being gone from her life to fight in the war scared her more than she thought it would. She was so proud of him for dealing with the deaths of all his immediate family over the course of this war, which was by no means a small feat, and because he never shut her out. Whenever he had a bad day, he'd let her know and they would talk about it - either right then and there, or few hours later. Truth be told, Xavier owned Rolanda's heart just as much as she owned his.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost didn't hear him walk in with his trunk containing all of his worldly possessions.

"You're playing with your necklace..."

The hawk-eyed witch sighed. "I'm sorry, I just can't help it."

Xavier squeezed her hand then kissed the top of her forehead, and before he knew it, his girl was taking the beloved trinket off. He didn't ask what she was doing, somehow he just knew. Those special golden eyes of hers that held a unique place in his heart stared into his as she wrapped the necklace around his neck, her breath on his cheek. When the wizard heard the snap close, he felt two fingers playing with the curls of hair on the back of his neck. He loved it when she did that.

"I want you to have it, if only so you will remember-"

"Rola, I could never for-"

The witch placed a delicate finger on his lips, effectively silencing him. He suddenly had the urge to kiss it, but pushed it down, knowing this was not the time to indulge in any sort of teasing manner.

"Please, love, let me speak," Rolanda pleaded. She saw his eyes soften and knew she had won, it was those little cues like that, which made some people think they had the ability to read each other's mind. "I love you, Xavier Hawke, and I refuse to let you leave me without promising that you _will_ come back to me, that you _will _write to me whenever you possibly can, and if you get the chance, you _will_ visit me- certainly not without taking something dear to me with you anyway."

"Consider me taken, love, because I would never dream of leaving you." The wizard gently grazed his thumb over her cheek, planting a quick kiss on her lips while his other took out something from his pocket. It was a small silver ring with a stunning turquoise gem in the center of the Hawke family crest.

"It was my mother's promise ring," he explained quietly, searching her eyes for some sort of answer. "I've contemplated this for a while now, Rola. I don't want to rush you, burden you, or make you unhappy during these next few years apart. I do not want you to accept this because you think it will make me happy, or because you've given me your father's necklace. I want you to accept it because it's what you truly wish. I love you, Rolanda Hooch, and nothing is going to change that, whether you accept it now or later."

Tears threatened to cloud her eyes. Rolanda wasn't one to get over emotional, but at this moment she didn't know how she could _not._ The hawk eyed witch placed a hand on his chest, then slid her ring finger through the hole. She looked up at him, and he to her, then their eyes closed and lips found each other's, sending tears down her cheeks. They parted for breath moments later and Xavier held her close, cheek to cheek, tasting the salt of her tears in a silent embrace.

But it was not to last. The clock chimed three times, his signal to leave.

"I'll send you an owl when I get to the training grounds."

She nodded, then kissed him one last time. "Be safe."

He took a handful of Floo powder, stepped into the fireplace, muttered "Brombers Compound" then was gone in an eruption of emerald flames. She could have sworn he winked at her a mere second before he vanished.

The witch wrapped her arms around her middle, completely oblivious to her mother walking into the room.

"He's so much like your father, Rolanda," Xiomara said softly, slowly making her way around the room towards the fireplace.

The hawk-eyed witch turned, facing the woman. "Really?"

Her mother nodded nodded, kissing Rolanda's hair. "He did the same thing for me before he left for Romania to study dragons, gave me a promise ring. I was your age and there wasn't a bloody war going on."

"I love him, Mum," she said, blinking away a few tears down her cheeks again.

"I know you do, sweetheart; I know you do." The woman gently wiped away her daughter's tears with a smile. "Go on, find Minerva and Poppy. Speaking from my own experience, it will do you some good to stay close to them over the next few years."

"When am I not?"

Xiomara chuckled. "You have a point."

**July 11th, 1942:**

The more time she spent here, the more Minerva began to feel like she'd go mad. More often than not, she was to be found at Aquae Lament, either reading, trying to catch her Snitch, spending time with her sisters, or simply doing anything to avoid the Manor. She was finding it increasingly difficult to find time to talk with Galatea as well. Not only did it seem that Isobel was lurking around every corner, trying to catch her in the act, but her Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was constantly at _'meetings'_. By this point, the green eyed witch was certain they were not by any means a typical staff conference between Professor Dumbledore and the Headmaster. Galatea never said who she was meeting with, just that it was 'important'. Minerva could tell they were wearing thin on the elder witch, both physically and mentally, enough that she thought they _must _be regarding the war.

But at the moment none of that mattered. What did, was getting out of the Manor.

This morning her father had taken one glance at his daughter, then back to the newspaper. He looked shaken, but when Minerva tried to ask him what was wrong, he simply shook his head, folded the parchment and went into the other room without a word. Isobel, of course, had witnessed the scene. Her hazel eyes glared at her daughter, completely unemotional, before Minerva turned right back around with her unseasonably long emerald outer robe flowing eloquently behind her as headed for _Aquae Lament._ However, she stopped in her tracks upon hearing her mother speak up.

"I don't want you going to _Lament_, Minerva. You spend too much time there."

The green eyed witch bit back a strong retort, one that would certainly get her in trouble, then continued her walk. When she rounded the corner, and was finally out of Isobel's sight, she transformed into the silver-grey tabby and bolted for the magical place, far too thankful that a cat could outrun any human. She only paused once to regain her human form, mutter the password, then transform back as she was allowed into the tunnel. Minerva checked to make sure that her mother wasn't following her before she ran down the passageway and towards the haven.

The grey tabby spent many hours up in the branches of the giant willow, completely hidden from sight, yet in the perfect position to spot anyone who entered _Aquae Lament._ She didn't grow hungry as the day progressed, Minerva had that sort of 'talent' to ignore the temptations of food- for better or worse. Despite being thoroughly rested, the urge to fall asleep on the sturdy branch with the sun's warm rays shining on her fur was immensely warm and Minerva found her green cat eyes drifting to sleep.

It was very much afternoon by the time the grey tabby awoke. The bright ball of light in the sky had a hint of deep orange and the morning bird calls had long since ended. A big yawn escaped the feline Animagus and the urge to stretch her body won over her. The sound of the waterfall nearby was alluring.

Suddenly, the pelt near her left hipbone felt unusually warm. It was an odd thing, to feel something that should have been in her pocket now cleverly entwined within her fur. Very odd. Carefully and cleverly, Minerva clawed her way back down towards the earth, transformed after her head adjusted to the height difference, and then digged in her pocket. She pulled out the eloquent mirror while walking towards the waterfall nearby.

The green eyed witch smiled softly. "I've missed you."

"And I you, my dear." Galatea's warm voice echoed from the small mirror with a little more frailty than what Minerva considered normal these days and she wore dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and stress, yet she still held a smile on her face of relief. The woman blinked and her smile widened- but just a little bit, nothing more and nothing less. "Sweet Merlin, child, you must be positively burning."

The younger witch smirked, glancing at her long robes. She adjusted them to cover the back of her hand. "Believe it or not, I'm quite comfortable."

"I have heard that before. You are hiding your markings again, are you not?"

Minerva nodded, not entirely feeling the need to answer with anymore than that. The woman knew Isobel had no idea about her daughter being an Animagus and usually she'd be disapproving of this, however, the unfortunate fact was she'd probably never be able to talk to the girl if Isobel found out. She could deal with the information being kept secret, if only for that point.

Galatea tilted her head gently and her brow raised, though it was clear she wasn't curious about anything to do with the green eyed witch. "Is that... is that a waterfall I hear?"

"Yes, it is." Minerva smiled for a moment, though it faded just as quickly as it had come. She sat down on the grass with a sigh. The elder witch nodded softly, and the two fell into a silence. The Gryffindor closed her eyes, feeling the breeze lightly toss her hair around, listening to the sound of _Aquae Lament._ It wasn't one that you could describe with clear words as no one could entirely understand the meaning. Everything was different here.

As a child, she knew this place was magical, but never quite understood the full extent. The water was never cold, nor did it ever freeze; the enchanted snow was always warm to the touch- erasing the possibility of frostbite; while the forest never lurked of evil and seemed to want to welcome anyone who wished to enter. The songs of the birds were like bells chiming in harmony while the wind always smelled of roses. Completely and utterly magical. Hogwarts had the same feel, although this was something completely different. Maybe it was because of the scenery, but either way, it was a great place to be when things at the Manor became too tense.

"Penny for your thoughts, darling?" Galatea asked kindly, bringing the witch back to the present.

Minerva shrugged, opening her eyes as she did. "I'm so tired of this, the silence and lies from Màthair. Papa's becoming more distant as the summer goes by and I can't seem to get him to talk to me individually like we used to... and I think Màthair is paranoid."

"About what?"

"I have a few theories, but no solid evidence... I'm not even sure you could call them theories, they're just guesses really, like all I've ever had to go on in my life."

"I would still like to hear them," the woman smiled softly. "You know how I am about theories."

The green eyed witch took a deep breath in then let it out slowly. "All right then. My first guess is that she thinks you're up to something. I think she has been scheming, planning my future and what she wants me to do, and somehow your involvement hinders that- though quite honestly, I don't see how she possibly could think that, not knowing about our lessons or relationship. My second theory is that Màthair is manipulating Father into thinking that I've become out of control and need isolation, in some hope that I'll break. She still desperately wants to know what you have _'said'_ to me, but I've been refusing to give her any sort of answer until she tells me what-in-Merlin's-name she believes is so bloody important to keep from me. I know she probably won't give in, but..."

Minerva shook her head, clearing her thoughts on that matter and moving on to her last suspicion. "Thirdly, maybe Màthair has completely lost her mind. You told me about how insanity seems to run in the family, and well, I think she's starting to, or has already begun to submerge into that..." The green-eyed witch blinked a few times in silence while subconsciously biting her lip before speaking again. "To be honest, Galatea, I'm not sure which is worse."

"A combination of them all?"

"Merlin, I pray not." The green eyed witch covered her face with her hands, then removed them after a moment, uttering a somber, trembling sigh as she did. "Is it wrong to feel sorry for her, Galatea? After everything that she has done and continues to do? I can't help but wish that she's doing these things based on what she won't tell me, that it's something so horrible that she _must_ ignore me, but because I don't know I have no other choice but to assume that she just doesn't lo-"

Minerva placed a hand over her mouth and willed her eyes shut. No, she wasn't going to say that. She couldn't. Isobel was her _mother,_ whether she liked it or not, and as confusing and irrational as the woman's actions had been throughout Minerva's life, she could not bring herself to completely hate her- much like she could not hate Galatea for keeping silent either.

"No... no, it is not _wrong _to feel sorry for Isobel," the elder witch's voice was rather hoarse, causing the younger to look into the mirror in slight surprise, though that dulled the second she could see the internal struggle within the woman. Her pale blue eyes were on the verge of tears which she refused to shed, causing a pang in Minerva's heart as well.

"I-I'm so sorry, Galatea, I shouldn't have brought this up."

"No, child, I am glad you did."

There were times, like now, where Minerva could not help but wonder what had really happened between Galatea and Isobel. It was obviously something that had caused a rift between them, maybe a combination of things. There were also times that she just wanted to scream to the elder witch, _'Why can't you tell me? Why do you take it upon yourself to care for me? Why am I so important to you?'_ and although she wanted to, she knew she would never get an answer and probably end up driving Galatea away as well. That was the difference between the elder witch and her mother it seemed, Isobel seemed to strive to be banished from her life.

"I asked for your thoughts," the elder witch continued speaking, gradually blinking away her grief, "and no matter how painful they may be to hear sometimes, I would rather hear them than be left in the dark regarding where you stand on _issues._ You, darling, matter far too much to me."

There were also times like these that the green eyed witch sincerely wished the woman was actually here, where it might make things easier to express what she felt. Minerva was never good at it, unless it was directed towards her sisters, but she was about to speak in attempt, when the elder witch suddenly gasped.

"Merlin, is that the time? Forgive me, child, I must cut this short. I have an meeting I need to attend."

"Again? Galatea, you're wearing yourself out with these!"

"Noticed, have you?" the woman smirked, her eyes were back to their original hint of curious amusement.

"Well, you don't exactly look well rested."

"I will sleep when I am dead, Minerva. These meetings are-"

"Too important to miss. I know."

"Until next time, dear." The woman winked then disappeared, her face replaced by Minerva's own reflection. She'd have to ask what these meetings were for another time. The green eyed witch sighed and placed the mirror back into her pocket.

The sound of grass being crunched underneath in the pattern of footsteps echoed in her ears from near the tunnel after a few minutes. Minerva didn't open her eyes to see who it was, she just _knew_. The sound continued for a few minutes before the perpetrator stopped just a yard behind her.

"Who were you talking to?" Isobel's voice asked quietly and, as usual, was completely emotionless.

The younger witch didn't turn around, but she did open her eyes and stared at the magnificent waterfall in front of her. "Myself."

"No, Minerva, I heard another voice. Please, don't toy with me."

The younger witch restrained from rolling her eyes at the cold irony and kept her mouth shut.

"Minerva...?" Her mother's voice actually sounded like it was dipping into sincerity, which she found rather odd, but still didn't turn around.

"Unless you plan on telling me what _you _keep hidden, then I'm afraid we have nothing more to say to each other."

Isobel wanted and _needed_ to know what Professor Merrythought was conducting behind her back. She had heard the woman's voice- that was unmistakable. However, the fact that her daughter was denying this, and that she held any sort of ground over her, made her absolutely furious- and concerned too, if she were honest. Minerva was changing before her eyes, some for the better, but it was not what she had imagined, in fact, this was entirely different. The girl was far too rejecting of her, and she had no idea why. Well, that was a lie, Isobel did know part of the reason, but if that was the sole purpose, then her daughter would not be shutting her out like she was. Something had happened over the summer between her darling green eyed witch and Merrythought, something unseen which threatened to destroy everything that Isobel has done, planned and desperately strived for. She had every intention of finding out what had happened... and on her terms, of course.

"Minerva, _please,_ you don't understand the importance of this information."

_Oh for the love of- _"Well, maybe I would understand if you would just tell me!" the young woman snapped. "How do you know Professor Merrythought, Màthair? You don't have to tell me the intricate details, I just need a basic answer before I go mad! Who is she to you?"

"Enough, Minerva, you know I cannot tell you."

"But I don't know why!" the green eyed witch gestured with her hands in frustration. That was a mistake. Her long sleeves revealed too much of her hands and Isobel caught a glimpse of an emblem. She grabbed her daughter's wrist, faster than Minerva could react- an unfortunate reminder that Isobel had been an Auror in the past. The younger witch struggled slightly in her mother's grasp, then stopped, seeing as it was utterly futile to try and hide them now. Isobel stared into her daughter's eyes for a moment, as if daring her to challenge the situation, then slid back the sleeve of the green robe. To her horror, what laid beneath were the markings the woman had personally witnessed burning through her daughter's clothes on the day of that terrifying incident, except now they were a deep crimson, almost ebony, and no longer glowing, glaring or burning.

Isobel's face paled and her breathing shuddered for a moment.

"Who did this to you?" her voice was nothing like her daughter had heard before. A mix of concern, horror and _hate._

Minerva licked her lips and answered in a flat tone. "I did."

It was the truth, the younger witch _had_ been the one who performed the spell, but it wasn't exactly what her mother was prepared to hear.

"W-What?" Isobel's hazel eyes flashed, something near deep concern. Minerva hadn't seen such caring emotion from her mother in years, but she knew not to trust it. The woman would just go back to her cold-hearted self in a few minutes. "What do you mean, _'you did'?_ Why, darling? Why would you do such a thing?"

"It wasn't exactly by choice, Màthair." The younger witch tore her arm from Isobel's slightly weakened grasp, but she did not try to flee. The woman stiffened, her eyes changed from concerned to emotionless- just as Minerva predicted they would.

"Did _Professor Merrythought _put you up to this?" she asked bitterly.

Her daughter scoffed. "Would it please you if she had?"

For a second, Isobel looked dreadfully appalled, only for a second, before she quickly returned to her previous, semi-concerned and frustrated state. "Absolutely not!"

Once again, the green eyed witch looked away, suppressing her surging emotions. Merlin, she was so tired of this! She wanted it all to go away, to forget that it ever existed and just live in innocent bliss like Cayden.

Isobel was quiet for a moment, which Minerva thought was a bit odd- then again, everything about her mother's actions were abnormal -but when the woman's hand gently touched her shoulder, she jumped. These days, she could never tell what her touch meant, but since last Christmas, the younger witch thought it best to downright avoid it.

Her mother's reaction towards this was severely mixed, any emotion between hurt, shock and anger was clearly present, even in her eyes. It felt _wrong_, wrong that Isobel had momentarily halted her refusal of motherhood towards her. She was causing emotions to resurface again; that longing for the woman Minerva wished was her mother. The younger witch could never be sure if these moments were made of genuine kindness or out of manipulation, even with her highly mature mind.

As far as Minerva was concerned she had two options: break down and give into her rising emotions while telling Isobel everything in hopes that the woman would _somehow_ find sympathy and give in to her daughter's pleads. Or, she could stand strong by keeping her mother in the dark, thus preserving Minerva's promise to Galatea and the secret of her lessons- including her Animagus ability that was so close to being exposed now that her markings had been discovered. Minerva _needed_ that to stay secret, for without it, it would be nearly impossible to contact the elder witch. Not to mention it would complicate matters to the highest degree.

To her the answer was clear, and when Isobel tried to reach out again, Minerva stepped back, rejecting the temporary sympathy. Her mother acted as if she wasn't entirely surprised by the action, which the younger witch found a little disturbing.

"What did you do to achieve your emblems, Minerva?"

The green eyed witch stayed silent, in fear that if she said a word, the woman would piece her secret together.

"What _spell,_ what _ability _did you learn that caused this?"

Again, Minerva did not answer and Isobel's hazel eyes hardened, as did her features; her lips thinned, and fists clenched- but she did not say a word, not one word to defend her actions, nor to explain them. She just turned and left and that was all Minerva needed to understand that the real reason her mother had came to her in the first place was to solely gain information. The thought nearly made her sick.

The next day, _Aquae Lament_ was sealed off and Isobel refused to explain the reason for this, even to Cayden or Malcom.

**August 2nd, 1942:**

As it would turn out, her father was not ignoring her for the purpose of Isobel's wishes. He had actually just cut himself off from the entire family to prevent anyone from knowing the fact that his estranged brother, Fergus, who was in the Muggle RAF, had gone missing after a raid against France's Nazi controlled territories. A week ago, Robert finally received the news he had dreaded. His brother's plane had been shot down and the pilot was consequently dead. As of where the accident occurred, there would be no chance of recovering the body.

Robert explained that he hadn't had contact with his brother in nearly fifteen years, his parents a few more years than that- whom were also dead. It hardly occurred to Minerva that, while she was so intent on figuring out her past from her mother's side, she had actually never heard about her father's family... ever. Maybe it was due to the fact that he did his best not to appear as if he had something to hide and that it was more like he just had nothing to talk about.

Nevertheless, the entire family, dressed in black, went to Glasgow for the funeral and stayed a few days for Robert to handle the estate. Apparently, Fergus had no children of his own or a wife, just a flat in the city which he inherited from his parents. The funeral consisted of a few friends of Fergus McGonagall, all of whom were completely devastated by his passing. It was a quiet thing, short and simple, not too boring. Minerva noted how much Isobel let Robert lean on her. The man was completely distraught; in fact, during the service, he sobbed. Granted it was quiet and undisturbing towards the memorial, but nevertheless, her father had broke down and cried.

That night at the hotel, Minerva heard her father question the purpose of the war and praying that it wouldn't take anymore of his family, and she silently wished that she could turn her enhanced hearing off. The thought of what Robert would say when he found out about Minerva becoming an Auror during this war was almost unbearable.

**August 17th, 1942:**

Albus Dumbledore was not a man who could be unsettled easily, but the letter he received from one of his _'contacts'_ was not something he could just calmly take in with a few deep breaths, a mug of hot chocolate, then expect to find some sort of rationality. No, the moment he read the letter, Albus jumped out of his chair, nearly knocking it over in the process, and found himself virtually dashing through the halls towards Professor Merrythought's personal quarters. In a blink of an eye, he took the form of his Animagus and soared to the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower, only transforming back when he reached the office, her doorway not far from there. With a few quick steps, he knocked and waited impatiently for permission to enter.

"One moment." Galatea's voice echoed through the door. It was only a thirty second wait, but it felt like thirty minutes. They needed to talk. Now.

The moment the passage was open, Albus stepped through. The elder witch walked into the foyer, swiftly wrapping a sky blue towel around her long, wet greying hair, with a lightly steaming teacup floating near her. Her skin was still damp from the shower.

"What is it, Albus?" she asked, grasping her favorite cup from the air as she did, taking a sip when Albus gave her the letter.

"_They_ know, Galatea. They _know."_

The next sound Albus heard was the shattering of the elegant china across the marble floor.

**September 1st, 1942:**

As per usual, the Sorting Ceremony went off without a hitch, however, this year something unexpected happened. There was a young man who stood several feet away from the group of small first years. He looked foreign, and not in a bad way. He must have been around her age, Minerva concluded, give or take a year, and just about every girl in the school was gawking at him with either soft, dreamy eyes, or hungry desire- except the four Gryffindor girls who were beginning to get a name for themselves.

Poppy was too focused on the Sorting and reading off healing potions, herbs and spells in her head, preparing herself for work in the Hospital Wing first thing tomorrow morning; Augusta took a quick glance at him, blushed slightly, then continued to spill the details of her summer in Kevin's ear; Rolanda's beautiful hawk eyes merely looked him over for a second, then continued to fiddle with her ring. Minerva, however, payed him a little more attention than they did. She examined him from head to toe and could easily just say that he was handsome, but he was more than that. The tall young man had black hair that was combed back; he had short stubble on his chin, which combined with his sharp facial structure, was strikingly appealing- not even Minerva could deny that. Then you had to add in his stunning, sharp, tawny brown eyes that- aside from Professor Dumbledore's -were the most captivating she had ever seen.

She respected how he could keep a straight, stern expression while all the ladies were practically drooling over his presence. Actually, if the green eyed witch was honest, she did more than just respect it, she admired it to the highest degree, possibly due to the fact that she as well was _always_ 'perfect'- even it it wasn't in looks.

Minerva hadn't gazed at him for very long, a few seconds at most, when his eyes suddenly glanced towards _her. _She flashed him a genuine, welcoming smile- which he surprisingly returned in addition to a small nod of the head -then she looked back and tried to focus on the Sorting. '_Tried'_ was the key word. The handsome wizard's reaction towards her earned Minerva many scowls, angry glares, and nasty comments from throughout the Great Hall. Had there not been an important ceremony being conducted, the witch might have outright laughed- people really could behave rather ridiculously at times. Instead, she kept her expression calm and unaffected- which then rewarded her with another wave of comments about how Mikail smirked at her reaction. She hadn't noticed it, but she did see Galatea's eyes narrow, her lips thin and nostrils flare. If one thing was clear, it would be that the woman did _not_ like that action, which truth be told, was confusing.

When all the children were fairly distributed between all four Houses, it left the eloquently handsome young man alone until Professor Dumbledore held his hand up, calling for the clapping and cheering to calm, then cleared his throat.

"And now it's time for our transfer student to be Sorted; Lutrov, Mikail."

There was a small gasp from the girls upon hearing his name, which caused Minerva's eyes to roll in amusement. The poor guy, he'd probably be followed around by a flock of them for several weeks!

With his name called, Mr Lutrov stepped forward, sat on the stool gracefully, then closed his eyes as the ancient hat was placed upon his head. Nearly thirty seconds later, after complete and utter silence from the tension of what House he'd be trapped in, the hat shouted, _"Gryffindor!"_

_This could be a problem,_ Minerva thought with dark amusement as she simply clapped. The ladies from the Gryffindor table squealed in delight, while the gentlemen groaned in heavy despair. The reactions were the exact opposite with the other tables; boys were cheering with triumph while the girls were absolutely devastated. Oh the mockery of it all, it was just one wizard!

Along with the outrageous, gender-based reactions, the dark haired Gryffindor Prefect caught notice of Galatea's icy blue eyes, once again glaring at Lutrov in a highly suspicious manner. She made a mental note to ask the elder witch about it. As Minerva looked away from the woman, her gaze wandered back to the young man, intending for it to be brief until his eyes connected with hers again, and he started walking towards her. She found her heart beating a little faster and she could not look away. She held back her oddly pleasant surprise and greeted him with a quick, friendly smile again as he stopped near them.

"May I sit here?" he asked quietly, gesturing between herself and Rolanda. His voice was enchantingly deep, and his foreign accent didn't help that fact. The dark haired witch blinked with a brief smile.

"Of course," she said calmly, then scooted over. He sat down, again with a swift and graceful motion. Minerva wondered why he acted so, what background he came from and where he went to school before now, but quickly erased those thoughts, finding them far too prying. She wouldn't want to be poked and prodded upon instantly.

"I hope you do not mind me sitting here, I think you vere the only main group vhich did not drool over my feet or vish to dispose of me rather quickly."

His accent wasn't German, that was for certain, which crossed off only a partial option as to why Galatea wasn't enthralled by his appearance.

"Not at all," Poppy said with a small smirk on her face as her voice dripped with sarcasm. "As long as you don't mind us being _'cast down'_ by your presence."

Thankfully, he understood the humour and grinned. "I think it is I who should be asking that. You are all being glared at as if you vere Grindel_v_ald or Hitler himself!"

The green eyed witch smiled fully at that. "You'll find that we are quite used to it, Lutrov, it unfortunately comes with being friends with someone like me."

Somehow she got the feeling that he knew exactly what she meant, even when he opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could utter another word the Headmaster began his speech. It was no different than usual; he made a few comments about some relatively minor changes, addressed the topic about when and where to sign up for Quidditch, and once again reminding all students that the Forbidden Forest was as it was named, which gave Rolanda a momentary shiver. Then, Headmaster Dippet waved his hand, and the feast began.

"Returning to our previous conversation, Miss..."

"Oh, pardon me, I'm Minerva McGonagall," the witch said, then gestured towards her friends. "This is Augusta Louise- and that's Kevin Longbottom she's talking to, Poppy Pomfrey and Rolanda Hooch."

Each girl said a quick 'hello', Kevin nodded in his direction, but then continued talking to Augusta quietly, whom immediately blushed.

"Thank you for that," Lutrov said. His voice was still deep and just as enticing, which Minerva then decided was his natural voice and not what he used just to sweet-talk girls. She found that rather intriguing as he continued. "Anyvays, regarding your comment about being used to treatment as such, vhat makes you so special to deserve that?"

His brow was cocked in either curiosity or amusement, and his lips were tinged with the hint of a smirk. He was either playing for attention or just acting casual as a means of conversation. Minerva frowned slightly, not entirely sure how to answer that question. Thankfully, Augusta saved her, and for once the green eyed witch was glad for the Charms-challenged witch's selective hearing... or so she thought until the blonde witch opened her mouth.

"Mini-Kitty is- oh don't look at me like that, Minerva, I rather like the new nickname! -is only _the _most powerful witch to have walked through these halls in _at least_ half a century. She had a five-and-a-half minute Hat Stall!"

"Which is extraordinarily rare," Poppy added quietly. "Most Sortings don't last for more than a few seconds, a half minute describes you with having a particular talent, while full minute means you're probably special. Anything over a minute, and well, you're supposedly destined for something great- which usually ends up having something to do with fame and fortune. The higher your time, the more important you are within fate's plans."

"Is that so?" the wizard said, turning his head back to Minerva. She didn't look at him, actually, which rather surprised him with how she didn't like to talk about her apparent prowess.

"Only to those who believe it, Lutrov," the green eyed witch said sternly before taking a sip of her drink, obviously wanting to change topic.

"Please, call me Mikail, I rather dislike formalities."

Now that made her smile. Granted it was a quick one, but he still saw it. "Very well, Mikail, since you insist."

All conversation between the group died for a few moments as they filled their stomachs with the delicious meal. Minerva couldn't help but notice another particular third year Ravenclaw girl named Myrtle being harassed by her own Housemates. Had Minerva the power to deduct away points from other houses, she would have taken them dearly, instead, she reminded herself to catch them sometime and assign detentions instead.

"So, Mikail, where are you from?" Poppy asked, looking up from her notes as her long, rust colored hair fell off over her shoulders. It was nowhere near the length of Minerva's, but since the stubborn, dark haired witch insisted on keeping it in a tight, intricate french twist these days, no one could tell. Nor did anyone know that the clip which held the twist was actually her Transfigured ribbon.

"I lived in Moscow, Russia for many years. Myself and my family moved to London this summer."

"To get away from the war?"

"Be sensitive, Gusta!" Rolanda hissed, kicking the blonde haired girl under the table. "He doesn't have to elaborate why, _especially_ if it has to do with the war."

Augusta was about to snarl a retort when Mikail began to chuckle. Minerva looked at him with a rather incredulous expression, which then caused him to laugh out loud.

"I thank you for your concern, Rolanda. At my previous school, us students did not converse much of personal life, and vas something I alvays questioned. I find it rather refreshing to talk about such things. I take it that the var is something not talked about much?"

"No, it's not, especially in Hogwarts," the hawk-eyed witch said softly while glancing at her ring. "It's a sensitive topic to many students here. The professors don't wish to upset anyone who has lost someone close."

The Russian wizard nodded his head. "Makes sense, I guess, although it certainly is not practiced at my old school."

Minerva narrowed her eyes, noticing that, for the second time he refused to say the name of the school he went to, as Rolanda shook her head, muttering something about pitying the children there. While the other girls started up another topic- mainly about which classes they were taking this year- the dark haired with leaned slightly towards Mikail.

"If you don't mind me asking, what school did you go to, Mikail?" Minerva asked in a hushed voice, watching carefully for any sign of expression. He narrowed his eyes a little, but other than that there wasn't much to go by regarding his feelings on the matter. He turned his head towards her.

"Vhy to do you ask?"

"I'm simply curious."

"Like a cat, no doubt." His mouth twitched into a smirk. "Very vell, Minerva," he lowered his head, whispering into her ear, "Since you asked, I plead you to keep it a secret; not many vould care for me to be around if they knew."

_Someone like Galatea, perhaps?_ Minerva wondered silently as she stared into his eyes. "You can trust me."

"Yes, something tells me that I can." the way he said those words made her wonder if he knew something she didn't, but surely he couldn't have. "To answer your question, I studied at Durmstrang for five years."

Now Galatea's behavior made perfect sense to Minerva. Durmstrang was highly known to be open in its teaching of the Dark Arts, even offering a class on the subject. Supposedly they never taught the Unforgivables, but just about everyone knew that was a lie. They also were known to teach the best Legilimens there. This thought alone was intriguing. She made a mental note to figure out what exactly he'd been taught, then stashed it aside for later.

"Thank you for telling me, Mikail, I appreciate it."

"You are most velcome, Minerva." He looked down at his untouched food, frowned, then glanced back at her. "Um, Minerva..."

"Hmm?" she asked as she took a bite.

"Could you kindly tell me vhich tool is for the salad and vhich is for the meat?" he held up both forks in his hands and his expression was deadly serious. Minerva nearly choked from the strong urge to sputter into laughter. She managed to get down her morsel without a problem, but that didn't stop the mix of coughing and laughing as she finally swallowed it. Nor did his puzzled and embarrassed expression help matters.

"Vhat ever is so hilarious? Is my ignorance so funny?" he asked genuinely.

"No, no!" the dark haired witch managed to get out, before she completely calmed herself. "Mikail, most of us students here quite honestly couldn't give a hippogriff about what utensils are used for eating. Take Mr Weasley for example."

She pointed her fork at the fifth year who was absolutely scoffing down his food like he was starving, before quickly grabbing thirds. Minerva bit her lip, trying to suppress her giggles of laughter while waiting for Mikail to understand the hilarity of it all. For a moment, she thought the Russian wizard was about to vomit from the sight, but then he too couldn't help but laugh along with her.

A few minutes later Minerva looked up at the Staff Table and saw that Professor Merrythought was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Is anyone getting tired of Isobel yet? I am, and I'm the author lol!<br>**

**Chapter 21 - That Which is Troubling; Minerva receives a warning of sorts, she also pieces together something that makes her feel violated and causes to her to turn to Mikail; also, a dark hell rises to terrorise Hogwarts...**** and the certain pink, sickly sweet, toad we_ all _love to loath, enters- and meaning of the cough drops offers are revealed! Yes, I'm talking about Umbridge! :D****  
><strong>

**Until next time!  
>~LinK<br>**


	22. That Which is Troubling

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

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><p><strong>AN:**

**~This was later than planned** due to my own issues with this chapter. So If you experience any anxiety or anxiousness while waiting, I apologize and you can blame your stress on me. My betas have a right to their own claims **and they know it lol!**

**~Just for future notice for when I become a famous witch or sorceress;** I made up the **'Turnabout'** charm (which turns something or someone around). It doesn't exist in JKR's world, but this is FanFiction, so whatever.

**~Before I wrote this, or planned it, I did _not_ intend for it to be 17k.** Not at all. Because of this fact, what **was** going to be just Chapter 21, is now in two parts. I realised that there was just way too much information and action going on to take in at one time- I even had a hard time remembering what exactly had all been said- which is saying something.  
><strong>On top of that,<strong> Spin came down with a (very) nasty bug :( There was no way I was going to make someone voluntarily beta 17k words when sick- I'd feel horrible if I did. So both Spin and Em deserve praise in some way-shape-or-form for dealing with me lol. Em also dealt with an **_"Oooh snap, that wasn't planned!"_** moment- which she's very awesome for going with it and talking it over with me :D

**Beta #2 [Spin]:** It's a good thing both author and beta #1 live at far ends of the world from me - I could have taken both out in one fell swoop with this yucky bug, and then where would you delightful readers be? Chapter-less, that's where! You can live without me, but those two are where the magic happens!  
><strong>Beta #1 [Em]:<strong> Are we going to have this argument every week? Couldn't do it without you dear...you, and your highlighters! :D  
><strong>Author:<strong> ^.^I love these two. Highlighters and all (the document ends up looking like a freaking rainbow when it's done)!

**~Righto,** so this is going to get tense. Enjoy! :D

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><p><strong>Chapter 21 - That Which is Troubling...<strong>

**September 2nd, 1942:**

Minerva had spent most of the night tossing and turning. Galatea had not responded to her summons through the mirror, and her behaviour the evening before had been troubling, especially if it was due to Mikail being Russian, having studied at Durmstrang, and because he had sat beside Minerva, conversing and laughing with her. A connection was most assuredly there. Galatea clearly disapproved of the young wizard being at Hogwarts, not to mention the fact that he was interacting with her young, promising, star pupil. But that didn't explain why she had simply vanished during the feast, then ignored Minerva's multiple summons- and thinking that the woman was simply jealous was ridiculous. Something else was afoot.

On the upside of things, this morning every sixth year would be receiving their new schedule- not that it was something to get overly joyful about, but the prospect of having more free time was exciting, now that she'd be dropping History of Magic and Astronomy. Minerva had received Outstanding in all eleven of her OWLs. Yes, eleven. Even though she had dropped Arithmancy as a class, she still signed herself up for the exam due to her advanced knowledge of the subject- the fact that she had scored an 'O' in that alone was a testament to her knowledge. Many, _many_ Ravenclaws were absolutely seething that she wasn't in their House.

"They're the best OWL scores I've seen since my own grade card, Miss McGonagall." Professor Dumbledore said as he adjusted his glasses. He flashed a smile down at her as his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Actually, I believe you beat my Arithmancy score by two points. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Now, if I remember right, we discussed that you would drop History of Magic and Astronomy. Is that still your wish?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Well then, that leaves you with NEWT level Transfiguration, Charms, Defensive Arts, Potions, Herbology, Ancient Runes, Ancient Studies and Care of Magical Creatures."

"I also would like to take the Apparition class, Professor."

"Along with everything else, Minerva?" Poppy nearly choked. "Need I remind you that you're also on the Quidditch team, you're taking Animagus Studies, and you're a Prefect. I'm all for excelling beyond standards, but sweet Merlin!"

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. "She's right you know."

Minerva looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with bemusement. "Professor Dumbledore, I do recall you informing me that that you took nine NEWT classes, along with Apparition, Animagus Studies and being a Prefect, yet you're still alive to tell the tale."

His eyes twinkled, mirroring her own. "You make an excellent point, Miss McGonagall. Alright, fair enough, you shall be signed up for all eight NEWT classes along with Apparition and your Animagus lessons. Good luck, my dear."

She could have sworn that she heard him mutter, "you'll need it," under his breath, although it could have been her imagination.

Rolanda and Pomona had marked themselves down for the usual seven core NEWT classes; Poppy did the same- although she traded History for Arithmancy Creatures -while Augusta, whom expectedly failed her Charms OWL by accidentally levitating the examiner to the ceiling and managing to hook his trousers to one of the beams, took all NEWT core classes, except Charms. She dropped that subject, much to Kevin's amusement.

So it would turn out, due to Mikail's advanced knowledge in just about every subject, he was placed in all of Minerva's classes except for Animagus studies. This, of course, meant that his fan club of squealing girls was always following the pair of them within the halls, and he nearly got stuck with one of them as a partner in Transfiguration before Minerva abruptly pulled him into the seat next to her. She felt bad for him, although couldn't help but laugh at his predicament.

Her first hour was in Ancient Runes, and the walk to the classroom proved quite interesting. The moment her feet touched the stairs, she felt a hand sharply tug at her shoulder, pulling her to the side. It took her less than a second to realise it wasn't her sisters, Dumbledore or Galatea- and from that point, instinct took over. Before she knew it, she had the stranger pressed against the wall with his hands behind his back.

"M-Minerva, vhat are you doing?"

She blinked, suddenly realizing it was the Russian wizard and let go of him.

"Merlin's beard, Mikail! What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?" the green eyed witch hissed. She crossed her arms, giving him _'the glare'_ as he turned around and recovered. He took one glance at her and chuckled.

"You're cute vhen angry, did you know that?"

"_Excuse me?"_

"Cute. Is that not the term you English use vhen something is amusing and pretty?"

She narrowed her eyes. _Typical male._

"Don't _ever_ sneak up on me like that again," she seethed in all seriousness. "You're lucky I realized who you were in time!"

He recognized that she wasn't kidding, and for that she was grateful, as he removed all trace of humor when he spoke next. "Vhy? Vhat vould you have done?"

Minerva shook her head and breathed away her frustration. "What would _you _have done?"

His tawny brown eyes narrowed. "Probably something I'd regret."

"My point exactly," she said rather curtly, then turned on her heel and briskly started to walk up the stairway. She kept her awareness up from that point on though.

"Minerva," Mikail called out as he ran to catch up with her, "you are going to Ancient Runes, yes?"

"I am."

He smiled. "Could I possibly be your companion?"

She blinked for a moment, trying to figure out what he meant, then it dawned upon her. "You mean _'partner?'"_

He waved her away indifferently. _"Vhatever _you British call it."

"Mikail, I'm Scottish."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, and I'm a bird."

Minerva laughed, knowing he wouldn't entirely understand the meaning behind that, or her words. She said them in a rather hauntingly manner though, to make her point. She wasn't entirely used to company when going to Ancient Runes. "Then I'd watch your back for a cat might snatch you."

"Now, vhich cat could you be talking about, hmm?" he said as they rounded the stairway at the Six floor, near the boys lavatory. The green eyed witch didn't get a chance to reply, however, before someone screamed. Mind you, this wasn't a fearful scream- though it certainly caused fear to radiate from Mikail -but rather the scream of multiple squealing schoolgirls.

"Oh no-" he groaned.

"Get him!" the girls cried in near unison.

Minerva sniffed and narrowed her eyes, the sight was absolutely absurd. _Young they may be, but honestly, where was their sense of dignity?_

The green eyed witch took a bold step forward with every intention to assert her power to control this mad house. She was a Prefect after all and it was her duty to bring order to such intolerable behaviour.

"Enough!" she shouted. Her eyes were glaring daggers, lips were thin as paper and her voice carried across the corridor sharp as a knife. There were only three girls who did not stop, and at that point Minerva easily used the _Turnabout _charm on their feet. "You ladies should be ashamed of yourselves! Running after a wizard during school hours, when he- just like every other student in this castle -is merely making his way to class. I strongly suggest that you turn around and get to your classes immediately. If I ever see this despicable behavior in the future, I shall assign a week's worth of detention with Mr Pringle!"

For a moment, it seemed that time had frozen. No one moved, they were so stunned by the ferocity of the witch that they seemed to forget exactly what they were doing. Eventually the crowd grumbled and dispersed, all but one second year. She was a short, squat girl with close cut mousy brown hair magically pinned in curls. She wore a frightful pink bow on top of her head and horrendously pink shoes. Her school folders were positively smothered with pictures of cats to the point that even Minerva found it disturbing. The girl was rather calm; her hair wasn't messy from running, nor was her breathing irregular, giving the impression that she had not been a part of the squealing mob. Yet, she was staring intensely at Minerva with taunting hazel eyes, as if she had a bone to pick with her- even though the Prefect had said nothing that would have caused such a predicament.

Under the impression that the girl would leave for her classes soon, the green eyed Gryffindor waited for a few moments more. However, the more that she stared the girl down, the more Minerva could easily tell that something was off about her- and no, it had nothing to do with the fact that she was a Slytherin. Her smile was far too wide and her eyes were too happy, granted this could have been from her innocent mind not being touched by the war, but when she uttered that high pitched, girlish cough that made her skin crawl and her stomach churn, there was no doubt in her mind that something was seriously wrong with this girl's mentality.

"Hem, hem."

"Is there something wrong, Miss?"

"Yes, Miss McGonagall- that is your name, isn't it? Mine is Dolores Jane Umbridge." She offered a hand, which Minerva blinked impassively at, not amused by the gesture. The girl sniffed and pulled her hand back. She seemed oddly infuriated that her new acquaintance wasn't friendly with her. She straightened her posture and widened her sickly, sweet smile. "Right then, I'll get to the point. You see, Miss McGonagall, I would very much like to correct you."

Minerva raised a brow slightly, but other than that she hid her emotion- even with Mikail's small bursts of muffled of laughter. She knew how to handle children like her; the snobbish kind who couldn't stand it if something was out of order.

"_Correct _me, Miss Umbridge?" she asked crisply.

"Why yes, Miss McGonagall," the Slytherin said with what she thought was evidently a sweet smile. "You see, I do not believe you have the authority to- "

Mikail burst into laughter. The girl glared at Mikail with a fiery hatred that almost surprised Minerva. She did her little cough again, expecting him to instantly fall silent, but it only made him laugh more. Finally, she snapped and stomped her proud foot on the ground. "I do not appreciate being laughed at, Mr Lutrov!"

Her actions brought tears to his eyes, especially when she sputtered another _"Hem, hem!"_ again. Minerva elbowed him, and he finally got the hint, though he didn't entirely take it that way.

"My sincerest apologies." He bowed gracefully, with a very amused smile still branded upon his lips and his deep brown eyes sparkling with humor. "Vould you _appreciate_ a cough drop, Dolores?"

The little girl grew red as a tomato as anger rushed through her body. She blinked, took a deep, shuddering breath, then returned her attention to the Prefect.

"As I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted, Miss McGonagall, you do not have the authority to assign detentions with a particular teacher or member of staff."

At that, Minerva allowed a small hint of a smile appear upon her lips. "Oh, but I assure you that I do, Miss Umbridge. If you look within the rulebook under 'Prefect Duties and Regulations', page one hundred and fifty seven, if I am not mistaken," the green-eyed witch summoned her own copy of the book, waved her wand to turn to the exact page, then gave it to the girl, all without breaking their stare, "you will find that I am, indeed, _correct."_

The girl read the particular section of interest, then immediately blushed a burnt red. With that, the Prefect banished the book from the Slytherin's hands and into her bag.

"Good day, Miss Umbridge," Minerva said, her voice softly giving away her triumph as she and Mikail swiftly made their way past the quietly fuming girl.

"Vhat the devil is her problem?"

"No idea, but it sure made this morning quite amusing." The green-eyed witch smiled. "Remind me to thank her, will you?"

"Only if you give her a cough drop vhile you're at it!"

"Deal."

**September 5th, 1942:**

Things were going to be very tense this year, Minerva could feel it. It wasn't just Galatea who was acting strangely, it was most of the staff as well. During the meals of the day, several professors would get up to talk to another all the way across the table, just to exchange a few words and small pieces of parchment, then sit back down. The Headmaster and Professor Dumbledore were constantly chatting in hushed tones. However, that didn't compare to the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.

Galatea had been gone the past four days, which had _never_ happened before. One, maybe, and that alone was rare. The woman had yet to contact or respond to Minerva's near hourly summons that continued throughout most of the four nights. Because of this, the green eyed witch wasn't sleeping for more than a few hours at a time. She was tired, worried, and quite frankly scared. After her professor's odd behavior during the Sorting and the feast, she knew something was wrong, and those multiple summer 'important' meetings that the woman attended didn't improve her thoughts.

When Minerva asked Professor Dumbledore what was _'underfoot',_ he simply stated- rather flatly to signal it was not a topic they should continue -that it was nothing to worry about, then kindly informed her that Occlumency lessons would begin next Wednesday. The green eyed witch inwardly scowled at the thought, still not particularly enjoying the idea of learning the ability. She then asked him where Galatea was, and although he hesitated, then eventually told her that he simply didn't know. The sincerity in his voice haunted her a little, not only because she knew him to be telling the truth, but because he actually sounded deeply concerned himself.

Over the next few days, Minerva kept herself occupied by helping Rolanda with her notes and homework during her sister's free periods, then used the Time-Turner to attend her own classes, although today they ended up talking about Quidditch instead. With Xavier gone, the hawk-eyed witch was now Captain and they needed another Beater.

"Why don't we ask Weasley? He's been dying to get on the team, even Xavier said that he was competition!"

Rolanda smirked, remembering the comment. "You have a point. Alright, that settles the team. Now, for practices. I have the scrolls of our previous session plans." She Summoned them to her hand and rolled it out onto the floor.

"We'll have to modify them a bit for Weasley," Minerva stated, merely running over her thoughts. "Although I doubt we'll have to do too much."

Rolanda nodded. "Last year Brash couldn't compete with Ravenclaw during the Quaffle dive. That'll have to change, Cordell's speed and agility is far better than Brash for the Quaffle diving..."

"Let's move him to the front dive for the Quaffle, have Ashen move back to left flank and hover about two meters from the ground. Perfect route for her to get a head start when the whistle blows."

"You're right! Then have Brash cover Cordell for passing the ball." She paused for a moment, her golden eyes scouring the practice board, running through scenarios and tactics. "O'Kier should start covering you, I've a feeling Slytherin's going to have better Beaters this season- and by better I mean sly, sneaky and bound to not let you out of their sight."

Minerva frowned, she really hated Bludgers. "Lets hope O'Kier can keep up then, I move fast."

"Indeed. We'll have to ask him to get a faster broom... Hey, Min?"

"Yes, Rola?"

"I'd like you to be my Second... I know you have a lot on your plate already but-"

The green eyed witch laughed and wrapped her arms around her Quidditch crazed sister. "I'd love to Rola!"

"Really?"

"Yes really! Besides, you need my input. I'm your key to finishing the game, something Xavier really should have thought about a little more than his Keeper."

Rolanda laughed. "It's not _my_ fault he was focused on me."

Suddenly, a frantic schoolgirl with rust colored hair rushed into the Gryffindor common room, her hazel eyes wide with near panic.

"Minerva!" she breathed, nearly crashing into the green eyed witch as she ran up to her.

"Poppy?" Rolanda steadied her, casting a shared glance of utter confusion with her dark haired sister.

"I- I was on my way... saw Dumbledore with... overheard them... not good-"

Minerva gripped the frenzied girl by the shoulders. "Slow down and take a deep breath, Poppy, I can hardly understand a word you're saying!"

"Professor Merrythought's back! She's with Dumbledore in his classroom or office, I'm not sure which... Min, she _must_ have been in a duel. She had blood running heavily down her arm and a large gash on her shoulder..."

The green eyed Gryffindor paled. The thought of Galatea of actually being hurt in a duel was almost incomprehensible to her; she was, after all, her mentor and was one of the best Aurors of her time. Whoever the woman had engaged with must surely have been powerful and had numbers in their favor.

She turned to begin running towards the Portrait entrance when Poppy grabbed her hand, preventing the witch from taking off. She had to hear the rest. "Merrythought _begged_ him not to take her to the Hospital Wing, Min. She didn't want you, or Madam Nurix to know!"

"_Didn't want __**me **__to know?"_ Minerva repeated, rather taken back by the revelation. Her head was spinning, going over scenarios which would cause the elder witch to take such unprecedented action. Neither outcome was pleasant. "Just how bad was she?"

"I don't know for certain but-"

"Will she _live _Poppy?"

"D-Dumbledore said something about using Essence of Dittany before closing the door. If he uses that, she'll definitely live, but sweet Merlin, she was in so much pain, Minerva! She could barely walk without leaning on Dumbledore..." Poppy swallowed, then squeezed her green eyed sister's shoulders. "Min, you _have_ to go and see her, if only just to convince her to have Madam Nurix perform a diagnostic! I didn't go in there myself because I knew she wouldn't listen me. I figured that if you already knew, then maybe she would."

The green eyed witch nodded in agreement. Knowing the woman would live was a great relief. _If she died..._ Minerva quickly shook her head, clearing those thoughts. She didn't want to go there. Not ever.

"Is something the matter?" Mikail asked, walking into the common room, looking rather worn out- no doubt from escaping the legions of the hormonal schoolgirls which loved to stalk him.

"Was," the green eyed Gryffindor stated calmly, reasoning it would be better if no one else knew about the situation, then gratefully turned her attention back to Poppy. "Thank you for telling me, sister. I'll do what I can."

"It's almost nine, so don't get caught!"

"I won't!"

Minerva's eyes barely met Mikail's as she made her way out, she was far too focused on finding Galatea. Poppy's words rang hollow through her head as she made the perilous journey down seven flights of stairs towards the Ground Floor with impeccable speed.

'_...in a duel... blood running down her arm...'_

She knew this castle inside out by now, and combined with knowing exactly where the Prefects would be each night, she could easily sneak around the castle without being seen. Her body was becoming far too used to running without inducing her battle haze to keep her body from overwhelming itself. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing, considering all the events she'd had to go through to create such stamina.

'_...gash on her shoulder... begging...'_

The witch shuddered inwardly. Galatea _**never**_ begged. Ever. It was too low for her. For her to even stoop to that level meant things were critical.

'_...she didn't want you, or Madam Nurix to know...'_

_Dear sweet Merlin, Galatea, what the devil have you been up to? _Minerva prayed that it wasn't for her safely, but she had a feeling that it was and she couldn't bear the thought of the woman being hurt for her sake- or killed for that matter. _Was it that important that you could have been taken away from me? Was it worth it?_

As she neared the Transfiguration Department, Minerva began to smell a hint of blood. The moon's shining light illuminated the spatters of sclaret within the courtyard. She could tell by the larger puddles of malicious maroon liquid where Galatea stalled, probably from the pain. Terror threatened to constrict her heart and lungs but she pushed it back. With a wave of her wand, she Vanished the bloody evidence from outside Professor Dumbledore's classroom, then ran inside, closing the doors while she was at it. She found it a bit odd that the auburn haired wizard hadn't locked the room. Surely he could have done so with a flick of his hand, or even his mind, then a thought occurred to her that maybe he expected her... either one dealt with factors that she wasn't entirely able to grasp as the moment. Not with her worried mind.

She reached his office, once again finding it wide open and the trail of blood continuing towards his personal quarters. Swallowing her rising panic, Minerva kept her eyes level and in front, side-stepping the trail. She couldn't hear anything from the other side of the door, not even her enhanced hearing could detect a single noise. Deducting that a silencing charm must have been placed within the room beyond, she did the one thing she knew might give her a chance of opening the door. She knocked.

"Professor? Professor Dumbledore?" There was no answer. Not one. "Professor, please open up."

Again, she was treated with a maddening silence. She'd find a way to break down the door if she had to. "I know Galatea is with you! I know she's been injured, Professor, please let me see her."

At last, she heard murmurs. They were too quiet for her ears to understand, but then she heard footsteps and the wooden blockade was finally removed in one swift motion to reveal a pair of deeply captivating sapphires. She couldn't tell if the auburn haired wizard was furious, frightened or relieved upon seeing her, but his eyes had lost their twinkle, that fact alone was enough to cause her worry.

"Professor-"

"How do you know Professor Merrythought is here?" his voice shook with a tremendously stern resolve. Most people would find this outlandishly intimidating, almost scary, but Minerva wasn't one of them. She saw the worry behind his emotions, the anger and sorrow for his friend who'd been gone too long.

"Poppy, Sir. She caught a glimpse of Galatea and overhead a bit of your conversation, and the blood isn't exactly discreet enough to-"

"It wasn't from a side-source?" the wizard said, once again interrupting her a bit frantically.

"Sir, what are you talking about? What '_side-source'?"_

"She was attacked by the Untergang, Miss McGonagall."

"No..." she didn't entirely think when she said the word, but she did. It was the only thing she could do when her tears would not form. She wanted them to flow down her cheeks, break down, cry, anything but seem like the cold-hearted soul she wasn't. Galatea meant too much to her.

"Are you sure you don't know anything?"

"Let her through... Albus," spoke a raspy, painfully labored voice from behind the wizard. "Let me see her... 'tis too late to... hide this now."

Dumbledore muttered something about Galatea's stubbornness being the death of her, which Minerva might have agreed then and there if it he hadn't stepped out of the way- revealing the injured elder witch lying on the Transfigured sofa. Her left side held the most damage, and although the Dittany had done its job, the signs of the woman's injuries were very much visible. There was a cut on her cheek that extended from her ear to near her lips, a thick spiral scar coiled around her arm like a snake and her shoulder clearly had been dislocated along with the deep gash that ran through her shoulder blade. Her facial expression could not hide the amount of physical suffering she was afflicted with, nor could she cover the fear behind her eyes. The green eyed witch was at her side almost instantly.

"Oh Gods, Galatea..." she whimpered quietly, gently grasping the woman's hand. Her eyes were red from the inability to produce tears.

"Why?" she whispered then softly kissed Galatea's quivering hand whose touch had- up until now -always been warm against her cold skin, warm with comfort and love. Now it was the other way around. "What did you do to warrant this?"

"It- 'tis alright, darling, I... am fine."

"You are _not_ fine, Galatea, you're injured and in pain! You need to see Madam Nurix!"

The woman's pale blue eyes looked away from her, then closed. "Helena... has m-more than enough to... fret about. No need to add t-to her list."

"It's her _job,_ Galatea. Please, just for once, be selfish and think about yourself. I want you to let Nurix look at you, heal you, see if there's anything else wrong. You were attacked by the Untergang, for Merlin's sake!"

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. "You know that I concur with Miss McGonagall, old friend, you _need_ to see a healer."

"No, Helena is-"

"Galatea, let me make myself clear. I care too much about you, and because of that, you _are_ going whether you like it or not." Minerva said sternly. "Or so help me, I'll paralyze you 'til she gets here. I will not be able to stand it if you continue to hurt!"

Professor Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. The determination within his star pupil, the passionate love she held within her heart for the woman she had no blood relation to, was astounding, admirable and very- _dare I think it?_ -attractive.

The elder witch didn't answer- whether she was too tired, or she just didn't want to, was uncertain. Yet, the Gryffindor Prefect still had one small card left to play.

"Please, Galatea? Do it for me?"

That caught the woman internally. She trembled.

"Alright..." she breathed, her eyes drifted towards Professor Dumbledore. "Albus, w-will you...?

Minerva looked behind her, peering into his eyes, her emerald orbs shining in plea. He didn't need convincing, but when the young woman gazed at him he felt oddly compelled to do anything she wished of him. That feeling wasn't different, he'd always felt that driving need to do what ever was required to help her, but never had he felt this way by just peering into her eyes. Those emerald green eyes he knew so well had bewitched him long before now. He pushed those thoughts away, not wanting to think about where they could lead.

"Of course," he said with a nod in confirmation. Tearing his gaze from the girl- young _woman- _he grabbed a handful of Floo powder, then looked up at her again. His twinkle was back. "Oh, and Galatea, you might wish to prepare for the imminent tirade from Helena."

He disappeared in an eruption of lime green flames and left the injured witch to succumb to a painful, gasping chuckle.

"Damn him... told Dumbledore not... make me laugh- hurts too much."

Minerva smiled softly, brushing a lock of hair out of the woman's face and gently squeezing her hand. "Galatea, what happened to you? Where did you go? Why did you vanish? Why didn't you answer my-"

"Had you worried, did I?"

The green eyed witch sniffed. "How can you _say_ such a thing? Of course I was worried! You completely disappeared during the feast, refused to reply to any of my summons- or show any recognition that you received them _whatsoever _-over the past four nights, and then Professor Dumbledore didn't even know where you were when I asked him- even told me that he himself was worried! I..."

Minerva bit her lip, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, calming herself. "I didn't know what to think, Galatea. I didn't know what to _do..."_

"Sorry, darling... had my reasons."

"I know you did, and I respect that, but by all means you could have at least let me know that you were alive!" The younger witch sighed, closed her eyes then whispered. "What happened, Galatea?" her emerald eyes lit up. "Please, don't keep me in the dark."

"The Untergang _happened._ I was out investigating... knew they were on my tail- so to speak... and I foolishly fell into an ambush." Her voice was getting better, but it was still very weary. "Luckily, I am far more dangerous and skilled than they thought possible for an old woman like me."

"You're not old."

The woman scoffed angrily at those words, though it seemed directed towards herself.

"You may think that, dear... because that is how I look on the outside... and due to the normal life expectancy of a witch and wizard being at near two hundred- but my body says otherwise." Galatea closed her eyes and shook her head. "I have been through too much, physically and mentally. I may be seventy-nine in four days, Minerva, but I am at least one-hundred-twenty by physical means."

The green eyed witch couldn't hide her shock at this revelation. It hit her like a stunner. She had to fight to control her breathing and she clutched the woman's hand a bit tighter. "That's nearly fifty years..."

Suddenly, flames erupted from the fireplace again, followed by exactly what Professor Dumbledore had warned about. A voice, shaking with the full force of her tirade, drawing close to spitting fire.

_"What - in - Merlin's - forbidden - box - of - Unspeakables,_ may I ask, _were - you - thinking_? Not coming to **_me _**after Albus used the Dittany? _Refusing_ to not only let me know, but Miss McGonagall as well? After _everything _you've already gone through- and_ still **are?"**_ The medi-witch looked absolutely furious, granted her eyes showed that it was from her deep concern for the injured witch, but that didn't change the fact that Minerva considered her far more frightening than Dumbledore as she moved to the left side of the bed, opposite of the Gryffindor Prefect, then cast a diagnostic spell.

"Helena-"

"Don't! I do _not _want to hear it right now," the healer said sternly, as her eyes stayed on the diagnosis, reading the technical healing terms that Minerva couldn't understand. "You're lucky Albus used the Dittany when he did, you lost a lot of blood. Had you lost any more Galatea…" Helena shook her head. "...well, you get the point."

It amazed the young witch how calmly the Head Matron could talk to her patient, despite her being obviously furious at the elder witch.

"As I'm sure you've realized by now, you injured your shoulder _again_. The muscles have meshed and knotted together- which is the major cause of your pain. I'll have to fix that."

"It has to be now?"

Helena sent a glare that Minerva might have considered more powerful than Galatea's. "I _might_ have not needed to at this very moment had you come to me in the first place!" The healer let go of her frustration at the turn of her head, facing the auburn haired wizard who had taken a seat near his chess board. "Professor Dumbledore, please take Miss McGonagall out to your office."

The green eyed witch hadn't expected that. If Galatea was to undergo any sort of procedure, she wanted to be by her side, not in the other room waiting for results. The elder witch would have done the same for her had their positions been switched, she was sure of it.

"Madam Nurix, I'd like to stay with-"

"I'm afraid that's not an option, Miss McGonagall." Her grey eyes flickered over towards the Gryffindor. "Your worry is well placed, dear, but this isn't an operation that will cause her much pain, in fact it will relieve some when I'm finished. You can stay with her as long as you like after that."

Even with those reassuring words, the young woman hesitated; her green eyes searched Galatea's for some sort of answer. The elder witch smiled softly and then squeezed the girl's hand. Her skin was still cold against her own, but the meaning behind it made her feel safe.

"Go on, darling. I'll be alright."

Minerva couldn't bring herself into saying 'I know', for she didn't, not truly, so instead she just nodded. Tearing her eyes away from the woman, she found emerald orbs connecting with Professor Dumbledore's twinkling eyes. It assured her more than Galatea or the Head Matron's words combined.

As she neared the wizard, he gently placed an arm around her shoulder and together they walked out of the room and towards his office. The door closed behind them without a sound. His partial embrace had the similar effect it did when he shielded her from the feathers she accidentally exploded, except this wasn't as close or intense as before. She found herself oddly wishing for that again- and it wasn't entirely for the comfort.

"They sound as if they've known each other for a while," she said absently, trying to get rid of her- what she considered and thought to be -abnormal feelings.

"Indeed they have, and then some," he said with a smile. His eyes twinkled happily as he thought of the two elder witches' relationship in admiration while he popped a Sherbet Lemon into his mouth.

Minerva raised a brow at his answer, but decided it would be best not to press the subject about Galatea's personal life from someone other than her. It wasn't her business anyhow. He offered her one of the candies, but she kindly refused, not entirely in the mood for sweets. The witch wandered around a little bit, not wanting to stay still for very long. She was too anxious, even with knowing the elder witch would be alright, especially in the Head Matron's care.

Madam Nurix was one of Europe's top healers and apparently she'd been requested to serve in the war so many times that she deliberately went to the Minister herself to put a stop to the summons. She belonged to Hogwarts, heart and soul. She'd bonded with the children, the teachers and the castle itself.

Minerva placed her hand upon the bookshelf, running her fingers down it subconsciously as she read over the titles of books that she'd come accustomed too. She had memorized the location of nearly half of them already, and his collection was astoundingly large- though nothing close to that of the Manor, or Hogwarts Library for that matter. She read just about a hundred of them before she sighed. Her thoughts of Galatea kept interrupting her. It just didn't make sense.

_Why did Galatea leave? What in Merlin's name had she been doing that attracted the Untergang into believing she was a threat? Why didn't she want me to know? More importantly, is Mikail involved?_

The green eyed witch sighed in deeply rooted frustration. Questions were a constant in her life it seemed, and answers were always scarce.

"Miss McGonagall?"

Minerva slowly turned her head, looking up at her professor and into his twinkling blue eyes that felt like they held all the answers she could ever possibly ask for. She didn't understand it; he had no involvement in her life up until Hogwarts.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Before you arrived, and after Professor Merrythought had been stabilized, she asked me to begin your Occlumency training tomorrow. I'm not entirely keen on performing Legilimens upon your mind after all this, if you must know."

She smiled at the subtle compassion he seemed to have at the moment; his understanding for her unease was a relief.

"The fact of the matter is, however, I should tell you that I need a reading on where you are within the subject- as far as talent is concerned -before we begin."

"Sir, I know absolutely nothing about Occlumency, nor do I hold any desire to learn it. I highly doubt I have any sort of talent for it."

To her surprise, he actually smiled at this and his eyes twinkled with humor. "If you'll recall, Miss McGonagall, you knew nothing of Transfiguration, Charms, the Defensive Arts, Potions- any subject before arriving here except Muggle studies for that matter- and yet you showed great promise from day one. Why are you so convinced that Occlumency will be any different?"

Minerva tried to hold her small smile, but failed miserably. He had a point, not that she wanted to admit it. "I simply don't like the idea of anything to do with the mind."

"I understand, however," he began walking towards her in a steady pace, "I believe you'll eventually find that Occlumency is a necessary evil. The Untergang uses it to find answers like no other force of elites the Wizarding world has seen before. They use it to break their victims, to torture them and rip out the answers strictly from their memories. Try to think of Occlumency as a means of survival."

The young witch exhaled as she closed her eyes, then whispered her thoughts aloud. "If Galatea had been captured, would they have..." She bit her lip, unable to say the word while she forced the disturbing mental images away.

"Yes," he confirmed hauntingly. Minerva shuddered, hearing Galatea's scream of deep anguish and suffering that her mind had created. It took her several moments, and Professor Dumbledore began to think that she had lost herself within her own thoughts before she finally nodded.

"Alright, let's just get it over with."

His auburn brows furrowed. "We don't have to start now, my dear, you're still shaken."

"I know, but if we start now, then on Monday I can go over the theory. Read some techniques and get a grasp of how to defend my mind appropriately, and Wednesday we can try again. The faster and more efficiently we conduct these lessons, the likelihood will increase that I'll be at least adequate at the skill before Auror training."

The professor couldn't argue with her logic, and as a professor, he couldn't deny or delay these lessons anymore. Truth be told, he'd much rather Galatea perform them. The thought of himself invading Minerva's mind through force was sickening to him. But it had to be done. She had to learn Occlumency. She had to stop the war.

He pulled out his beech wand, dismissing his doubts and worries. "If you please, have a seat."

The young woman obeyed, and crossed her ankles out of habit. "Tell me what to do."

"I'll attempt to penetrate your mind. You will try to resist. Keep your mind clear from all emotions and thoughts, even that of resistance."

"And when I fail?" It wasn't a question of self-doubt, but rather a fact. She was a novice attempting to defend her mind from a master. He admired the way she treated the seriousness of the lesson, but she needed to relax for this to work.

"Then direct your thoughts towards the back of your mind, where needless information and memories are stored. It will stall me for a moment until I retract and end the spell. I can not pull out immediately as you'd like, not even the most skilled Legilimens can do such a thing during a breach. But most importantly, Miss McGonagall, remember to relax." He tried to come off this as calmly as possible, but the fact was he was about to invade her mind. Nothing could really be said in order to prepare or calm her. "Tell me when."

Minerva nodded, all traces of fear and anxiety were gone. How she was able to rid her emotions so quickly was a trait he knew had to have been inherited from her mother. "I'm ready, Professor."

"Very well then..." He took a moment to erase all of his own thoughts before flicking his wand and shouting, _"Legilimens!"_

The spell hit the witch like a train. He could feel herself gasping her air the moment it hit her. It was like a vacuum tunnelling through her mind, searching hungrily for whatever memory would come first. Suddenly, something slammed against his efforts, thwarting him from directly attacking. It was a mental barrier which would be expected from an Occlumens that had at least two years of experience- but not by any means from a novice, particularly for the first time. He picked and prodded, desperately exploring for a break through. It took him nearly forty-five seconds, which was extraordinary and completely surpassed what he had expected. Even most with a year's worth of experience couldn't thwart off efforts of a master Legilimens for more than ten seconds.

But he did break through and it sounded like shattering glass. Normally, he'd begin the process of retreating, but the sound was so painful that he found that he couldn't. It wasn't just her barrier breaking. It was from a memory.

"_Minerva? Minnie? My darling, my child, where are you?" a voice calls out. It's motherly, full of panic and echoes as if in a tunnel._

"__Màmag [mum]_?" a young voice, a young girl's voice more specifically, cries out. Pitch black surrounds her and she can't see. She hates the dark, it terrifies her. Tears touch her cheeks and she wipes them away, except a new liquid smears upon her skin, and something hard that was there before, grinds into her palms deeper and she screams from the intense pain which shot through her hands like lighting."_Màmag_!"_

_Instantly and violently, the memory shifts. A drowning abyss of darkness and an eerie emptiness overcomes the scene, until suddenly it shifts again, just as violently as before._

_This time there's light. She can see, and she sees her mother at her side. Her mother is whispering words into her ear that she can't comprehend, and again they echo oddly. Glass is everywhere on the floor. Her hands still hurt, but it's nothing like before. She wears bandages on them, but the blood from multiple cuts seep through the white healing bandages..._

Finally, Dumbledore found a hole, a way to escape, and took it, abruptly ending the transmission of memory between them. Normally the attacking wizard is only short of breath and it goes away after half a minute, but this was different. Something had felt _wrong_ about that memory. The faint echoes shouldn't have been there with her mother's voice. Not even from a small child's point of view. There were little pricks from the images, subtle twists and twirks. Only those who had studied Legilimency would know what these meant.

Minerva McGonagall's memory was tainted. Whether there were more- which he had a dreadful feeling was the unfortunate truth -was entirely unknown.

The young witch looked absolutely mortified and to his relief it didn't seem to be from the fact that he had seen her memory. Her hands were shaking, breathing was heavily hitched and she was struggling to find something, or someone, to keep her attached to reality.

"That wasn't-" she swallowed, covering her mouth with one hand while the other hugged her middle. "I've never seen that... Professor, what was that? I don't... never-"

"Minerva," he said her name- it'd been a long time since he'd been in a scenario he considered appropriate enough for it. This was beyond appropriate. "You don't remember this?"

"No, Sir... and I remember many important events from my early childhood. T-This... I've n-never... it d-did not_ feel_ l-like..." her voice trembled her into silence. She was scared, whether she admitted it or not. Scared and horrified. Two perfectly good reasons the compelled the wizard to take some form of action to comfort her. He took her hand that was wrapped around her stomach and held it. He tilted her chin to force her saddened eyes to stare at him.

"Minerva, do you think it's possible that... could it be that it wasn't a-" He licked his lips, trying to find the right way to ask this very impertinent question. He tried again. "Minerva, has it occurred to you that your memories have been _tampered _with?"

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, yes and<em> yes-<em> I totally dabbled into Pre-MMAD! And I brought upon you a LOVELY CLIFFHANGER! *quickly hides from the bombardment of hexes to be thrown at me*  
><strong>

**Also, "Hem, Hem!" will make a return- but later, I promise! If you have ideas on confrontations you should tell me because it's fun to hear them :)**

**Chapter 22 - "...Will Be Fought"; we'll start up right from where we left off and finish what wasn't promised beforehand!****  
>~LinK<strong>


	23. Will Be Fought

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

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><p><strong>AN:**

**~And so, **with this chapter your anxiety from the cliffhanger may rest... or so you would think...

**~Ruth and Em** deserve a big round of applause on this (when don't they? lol). No rest for the wicked, right?

**Beta #2's Note: **Thanks all for your kind wishes, I'm feeling much better now. Although trying to find a time zone where all three of us can discuss this together is doing nothing for my internal body clock lol :P**  
>Author: <strong>And living in three different countries, six or more hours apart from each, doesn't entirely help that fact...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22 - ...Will Be Fought<strong>

**September 5th - September 6th:**

"_Minerva, has it occurred to you that your memories have been **tampered **with?"_

The dark haired witch didn't blink for several moments, her body seemed frozen in time- to the point that her professor began to wonder if he had shocked her beyond what the witch could handle; but then she came back with a sharp intake of air. Her entire reaction seemed to confirm his theory that she was in the dark regarding such a delicate, precise, mental manipulation.

The witch's trembling had come to a halt. It would appear that her mother had twisted and plagued her mind even further, and now there was physical evidence to back it up- well, if you called memories physical, that is. Minerva shivered at the thought of what Isobel might do if she found out her daughter was accessing this sort of information. She looked away from the wizard's blue eyes, shaking her head in what he believed was disbelief, but her words proved him wrong.

"To tell you the truth, Professor, I am unfortunately not surprised."

"You're not?"

She didn't answer him, not directly anyway, instead she asked her own question. "Sir, can I ask you to please keep this quiet? Merlin knows what Galatea would do if she found out- and she's been through enough today."

The wizard could see her logic, and- if he were honest with himself -he'd want to keep this revelation hidden as well. Every year it seemed he found out something more about this young woman that made him want to protect her. It originally started with protecting Minerva from herself, which had increased as both her doubts and enemies grew. Now that he suspected Isobel of tampering with her daughter's memories, the stakes suddenly skyrocketed.

The door to Professor Dumbledore's personal rooms opened with a slight creak, and both the professor and the witch were quite thankful that Helena had used her magic and stayed with her patient, rather than physically interrupting them.

"You can come in if you'd like," the medi-witch quietly called.

The wizard began to pull away when Minerva's other hand came down upon his shoulder, causing him to instantly look into her emerald green eyes that were silently asking for an answer to her plea. He gently removed them as he mouthed the words, _"your secret is safe with me"_, knowing that even if he whispered, Galatea's enhanced hearing would pick it up.

"_Thank you,"_ she mouthed back. If it hadn't been there before, it was now; Minerva McGonagall trusted and respected her Transfiguration professor inexplicably. She took a moment to compose herself before uprooting her body from the chair and walking into the other room. The revelation of her mind being tampered with would have to be addressed later, right now she needed to focus on what mattered. _Galatea_.

The woman was exhausted beyond belief. Her eyes were half closed sweat beaded down her forehead and her breathing was slightly faster than normal. Had her pale blue eyes not crossed to the young woman's direction, she would have fallen asleep within moments. The questions that Minerva held before- and were not answered -towards Galatea's attack hummed in her mind again, although she held her tongue. Now wasn't entirely the right time to ask them.

"Minerva," the elder witch said muttered quietly, beckoning her to come closer with small motions from her right hand, "come 'ere, child."

The green eyed witch knelt down, once again wrapping her hands around the woman's. Her skin was still cold, but not like it was before. The Head Matron must have transfigured Galatea's robes as she now wore a nearly sleeveless cobalt blue nightgown which exposed the long spiral wound on her arm.

Professor Dumbledore stood near the door frame, casually leaning against it as he watched the scene unfold before him. His eyes hardly left the compassionate young woman. She displayed so much humanity within her and it warmed his heart just witnessing it. The young witch that displayed such incredible magic and at times had difficulties keeping it in check with her emotions, had grown up. Her already-advanced maturity had grown beyond her age- possibly twenty years ahead if he had to guess. The idea that the Untergang would eventually be meeting their most skilled adversary- who wasn't even twenty yet -was thrilling, if he was brutally honest. They needed to be stopped. If there was anyone who could do so, it was Minerva. A witch far too wise beyond her years.

"How are you feeling?"

"Other than completely drained," Galatea's gaze flickered up towards the medi-witch, "Helena takes good care of me."

The Head Matron huffed. "Apparently not enough, or you'd have let me see you without a hint of persuasion." She took out three bottles of liquid; one blue, one lavender and the third a deep golden red- the latter labeled _'Blood Replenishing'_.

"I love you, dear."

"I know you do," she replied absently while taking out a few other objects. A moment later her head turned _very_ slowly towards the woman and stared at her for a moment before replying with a stern voice, although her eyes had softened with a glint of humor sparkling in her grey eyes. "Why am I having a sudden feeling of déjà vu? I seem to remember you said that last time you were in my office for the last bloody stunt you pulled about a month ago..."

The Defensive Arts professor smiled, as much as she could given the circumstances. "Indeed I did."

The medi-witch sighed in defeat, opened the red vial and then gently raised it to her patient's lips. "Just drink this you stubborn witch."

The woman was too tired to roll her eyes, but still obeyed the command and drank the contents, despite the bitter taste. Minerva watched the two of them with amusement, wondering if a scene similar to the one before her would unfold between her and Poppy one day. As if she'd spoken her thoughts, Helena stared at her while she capped the bottle again.

"Don't you be getting any ideas with your dear sister, either. Poppy worries enough about you as is it is."

The green eyed witch was about to retort a bit teasingly, when suddenly a high pitched, bone chilling scream carried around Hogwarts from a floor or two above them. Although the Madam Nurix did not have the amplified hearing as the three Animagi did, she knew what it meant just as well. It would seem that, yet again, fate had decided to reign terror within the castle tonight.

"Oh no... they couldnae be- Albus, the Untergang agents... there was not enough time to thwart them!" Galatea tried to get up, determined to do her sworn duty and protect the students, but Minerva and Helena held her down.

"Oh no you don't!" the Head Matron almost growled. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day!"

The elder witch trembled as her pale blue eyes stared into the healer's. "But the children, if Untergang-"

"Galatea, we will not permit you to go anywhere in your current state. Please, stop protesting this." Minerva said sternly, receiving a flash of gratitude from the medi-witch. The injured woman fell silent, growing tired just from the argument. She was far too weary to defend anyone. If Untergang had barged through the door at this moment, and Galatea was the only one who could defend Minerva, she would have only been able to buy the young woman a few seconds- if that.

"Miss McGonagall," Professor Dumbledore spoke up and she quickly turned her head to look at the wizard. He had his wand out again and to her disappointment- although not surprise -the twinkle in his eyes had all but faded. "Stay here with Professor Merrythought, and I mean it. Do not leave this room until the all-clear has been given!" Minerva didn't utter a protest, the severity of his words seemed to convince her of what he feared could possibly be the worst state of things. "Helena, I'll send you a Patronus if you're needed."

"Don't bother, Albus, I'll be along shortly."

The deputy headmaster barely nodded before leaving in a flurry of vibrant purple robes.

Galatea began to mumble in fear again, her extreme fatigue wasn't helping matters and it was apparent when her Scottish brogue thickened. "I-if Untergang is here..."

"Now you're getting yourself into a fright, Galatea," the medi-witch stated, still very stern although this time it was with a bit more compassion than previously. "For all we know it could have been Peeves frightening a student that's out of bed or a Prefect on patrol."

"Well then, he must have done a damn good job of scaring them, because that was no scream of surprise!" the injured woman retorted strongly. "And if it is him then I will oust the abomination from Hogwarts myself, with or without Armando's approval."

"Whatever it is, you're staying here. You are in no condition to fight, and you know it, you couldn't even take me if you tried right now, for Merlin's sake!" The Head Matron breathed in a frenzy. Her grey eyes narrowed then glanced at Minerva as she tapped the bottle of burgundy liquid. "The Butterfly Weed Balm- the lavender potion, dear -is for the pain. You'll have to apply it for her, and do so gently- especially on her shoulder. The blue is a calming draught, try not to get them mixed up- also, let her fall asleep if she feels the need, don't keep her awake. There's a cloth in the water basin on the table if she needs it."

The healer's eye caught Galatea's for a moment, and Minerva watched the mixture of ferocious emotions swirl in their eyes. There was concern, and fear, but there was something else, something that the young witch couldn't quite pinpoint, but it looked remarkably like the two women had shared a few moments before.

"You, I'm not done with you yet," the Helena's voice ground into the similar frustration she displayed upon first entering the room.

"I did not expect you to be."

"I will be continuing _this_ later."

"I shall not resist, Helena, you have my word."

The Head Matron remained for a moment, and Minerva wasn't sure what the woman was still struggling with; the notion that Galatea was back and alive, or the fact that the Professor originally didn't want the medi-witch to know of her ailments. Then again, maybe it was something entirely different that seemed to simmer underneath both of them too. She kissed her patient's cheek, then quickly left with her red and white matron robes flowing gracefully around her.

"I knew she would not take it well, either way. She lost her brother about two weeks ago, Minerva."

"I understand." The green eyed witch smiled sadly. Death seemed to be a constant this year.

"But you don't."

Minerva sighed. "Not about why you wanted to keep this a secret. I understand not wanting to worry me, but after you had been gone for four days without any contact, I was already worried."

She removed one of her hands to wandlessly summon the cool, damp cloth from the water basin from the table across her. Weaving her fingers, she wrung out the excess water then floated it to her and began blotting the woman's forehead.

"Are you too tired to tell me what this whole thing is about?" she asked quietly.

"I have, darling."

"No, you've told me how you got injured, not what you were doing."

A deep sigh quaked from the woman as she closed her eyes. "I was investigating a lead that Professor Dumbledore received from one of his contacts."

"What was the lead?"

"The Untergang has been spotted a few times in Great Britain, in London mainly. It is believed that they are trying to infiltrate the Ministry."

"For what purpose? To overthrow it or something else?"

The woman narrowed her eyes and stayed silent for a while. Sensing that she might not get an answer, Minerva pulled the cloth away, placing it within the basin that she Banished to the floor near her, and decided to change subject for a short while. "I should start applying the Balm. Madam Nurix will have my head if I don't."

Galatea smirked, knowing it was all too true.

"Can you sit up for me?"

The woman sighed, more or less from physical defeat. "You might have to help me on that."

"I can do that."

"Gently," she whispered, more as a plea than demand.

"Always." Minerva placed a hand on the small of Galatea's back and another on her uninjured shoulder. "Just tell me if you want me to stop if it hurts too much."

Slowly but surely, the elder witch moved into a sitting position with only minor difficulty, before the green eyed witch adjusted the pillows for support.

"Thank you, I... I could not have done that myself."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Galatea." The younger witch summoned the lavender bottle into her hand.

The injured woman smirked with a huff. "You sound like Helena."

"Well, I don't have her healing touch, believe me. I know just about nothing compared to what she does."

"Well, then we will have to rectify that."

Minerva groaned softly. "Maybe next year, I have far too much on my mind as it is."

"I will have to add that to my list of books to get you then. Reading about Healing spells, herbs and potions is a large step in itself- which at the rate you read, it should not take you long to get the preliminary basics. Practice is not entirely necessary, though it is preferred. However, with your accuracy at performing spells on the first few attempts, I do not think you will need much anyway."

"Oh all right then, I'll read them when I find the time." The green-eyed witch gently moved the strap of the woman's dark blue nightgown, exposing a fresh, gruesome scar on her shoulder blade. There were many others, one was cut particularly deep, acting as the line of where her shoulder blade ended. It must have been the first injury Helena had referred to when she mentioned Galatea's shoulder being messed up 'again'. She caught her breath, momentarily imagining the agony the woman had to have gone through.

Shaking her head to rid herself of those thoughts, Minerva unscrewed the bottle then floated the cap to the table while summoning a cotton ball into her hand. She dipped it into the balm, let it soak up the liquid for a moment; then with great care, she gently began to dab the balm's liquid onto the injury. The woman flinched.

"Sorry, I-"

"No, no, you are just fine, dear. I was merely reacting to the cold." The Gryffindor breathed a small sigh of relief, then continued- a little bit slower than before. She was going to stay silent, to concentrate on her meddlings, though it seemed that Galatea had a different idea. "To return to your original question, darling; their sole goal of infiltrating the Ministry, would be to gain information."

"So, you left to investigate what they wanted to know?"

"Yes, I left to find answers. If you should know, I was not asked to do this by the Ministry, Minerva, even though with what I found, I will have to talk to them anyhow."

Finished with the woman's shoulder, the green eyed witch gently pulled the gown back up. The witch dipped the cotton into the balm again before replying. "What did you find?"

"Untergang does not know the identity of the person they are searching for."

"Do _you_ know the identity?"

The elder witch groaned, half from exhaustion, half from partial frustration. "Child, are you really in such denial?"

Minerva narrowed her eyes, then halted her ministrations. "Pardon?"

"Darling, the Untergang is after _you._ They want _you_ captured- dead or alive."

To say that Minerva blanched might have been an understatement as she shook her head in disbelief. "No, that can't be right. I'm just a student, I'm not even seventeen yet."

"They do not know that, Minerva. They do not know who you are; what age, house, wand, family, nor the full extent of your training. Nothing. They just know you are a threat."

"If they know _'nothing'_ about me, then how did they find out that there is a threat in the first place?"

"This _is_ war, darling; one where the enemy captures, tortures and kills prisoners for information in the most gruesome ways imaginable. Spies are everywhere, betrayals occur every day and traitors are created."

The green eyed witch pursed her lips, then continued applying the balm to the woman's injured arm. "Is that why you're skeptical of Mikail?"

The woman fluttered open her eyes and looked at her. "Noticed that, did you?"

"You weren't exactly discrete."

"No, I suppose I was not." Her faint smile faded. "I am an old, paranoid ex-Auror who is very protective of you. I have no evidence, nor any reason to suspect that he is a threat. As far as I know, he is a good lad who is very charming- it just so happens that he is from a school which the Untergang is famous for recruiting members from before they graduate and turning them into elite killers."

"What should I do then?"

"Around Mr Lutrov; I would advise you to act as you have before- better yet, you could see what he knows. Get him to trust you- which should not be too hard considering he took a fancy to you during the feast."

"I've already begun to do that. He's told me what school he went to, despite the danger, and I sort of put a dent in his fan club."

Galatea chuckled tiredly. "Prefect style, I assume?"

"How else?" Minerva beamed. The woman smirked, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

"Just be careful, darling." She patted the Gryffindor's hand, then continued her advice, "Now as for the Untergang, well, we shall have to be more discreet with our lessons. You will probably be using your Animagus form far more than what you have been."

"Er- there's a slight problem with that, Galatea. You see, Tom Riddle has been watching me, last year he took it upon himself to be lurking everywhere I went."

The elder witch's sleepy eyes narrowed. "Hmm, let me deal with him, dear. I shall have a talk with Professor Slughorn to keep the young wizard busy, which should not be too hard considering Riddle is a Prefect now."

"Oh, that's just _lovely."_

"You don't like him very much, do you?"

"The boy is an absolute _snake._ He's cruel, calculating and I think he's dabbling with the Dark Arts."

Galatea groaned softly. "Well, he _is_ a Slytherin. To be brutally honest, don't expect anyone from that House to graduate completely innocent from the allure that the Dark Arts has over them."

Silence came over them once more as Minerva gently dabbed the potion around Galatea left hand. "You really have no idea why they know about me?"

"Let it go, darling."

"I'm just not convinced, it doesn't seem right that they know."

"The reason is not important."

"The fact that it pertains to me, Galatea, makes it important!" she stated, perhaps a bit too sternly than she should have.

The elder witch returned her gaze with less of a glare. "Please, trust me, darling. What they believe is _not_ possible, logical or theoretical- even for me. As far as I am concerned, it is a dead myth. They are fools to believe that it even exists."

"But how does that-"

Suddenly, a silvery blue light came into the room from behind them. Minerva turned around, her wand out and ready to fire, but quickly withdrew it after realising it was a magical, mist-like phoenix. Or more accurately called a Patronus. The green eyed witch had never seen one before- not that she could remember anyway. The figment soared around her, radiating a soft glow of happiness, protection and love. It perched on the bed near Galatea's legs, looked straight between them, then opened its beak.

"_It wasn't the Untergang, but do not rest easy; the Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Mr Wade, seventh year, Hufflepuff Prefect, has been paralyzed. No counter-spell has been found yet. Beery will be planting Mandrakes as soon as shipment arrives. The scream was from Miss Summers, fifth year, Gryffindor Prefect. She was on duty as well when she found Mr Wade in the Muggle Studies corridor. All is fine otherwise._

"_Galatea,"_ the Patronus rotated its head towards the elder witch, _"Most of the Staff know you're back. You may brief them when you like. Helena orders you to stay put, or, and I quote, _'there will be hell to pay in more ways than one'_. She also wishes you a good night's sleep and apologizes if she wakes you in the middle of the night while checking on you."_

A very light blush crept upon Galatea's cheeks as a tired smile tugged at her lips. The glowing phoenix looked at the younger witch.

"_Miss McGonagall, Professor Slughorn shall be escorting you back to Gryffindor Tower and should be with you shortly. Please continue to be on the lookout."_

The bird closed his beak, then promptly dissolved, leaving both witches speechless for a few moments.

"I thought the Chamber was was a mere myth," the green eyed witch spoke in very soft, hushed tones, partially speaking to herself. "I mean, I've read about it, but no one has ever been able to find it."

"Mmm, I find myself agreeing with you as well... Minerva, I could use the cloth again."

"Yes, of course." The younger witch maneuvered herself back to her original side of the bed. She wrung out the cloth again, Summoned it to her, then gently began dabbing at the elder witch's face, neck and high chest areas. She took her time, gently letting the cool water touch Galatea's skin. The woman's eyes slowly began to blink between falling into her desperate need of sleep or stay in touch with reality along with the younger witch.

"Galatea?"

"Mmm-yes, dear?" she mumbled a little bit, fluttering open her eyes. Minerva cringed inside, knowing the woman desperately needed her sleep, however, she had to keep talking otherwise she'd begin to think about the hidden memory Professor Dumbledore had earlier pulled to the surface.

"I've never heard of using Patronuses as a means of communication, nor have I actually used the spell before. Could you teach me?"

"I suppose, since Dumbledore will be conducting your Occlumency lessons, I could teach you on Patronuses, and maybe a few other things before your Occlumency tests begin in December, and possibly in between them."

At the mention of _'Occlumency tests'_ Minerva's hand pulled away, dragging the damp cloth into her lap. She stared at her hands, remembering the feeling of them burning, bleeding and inflamed from the glass shards stuck inside. She shivered. _So much for preventing thoughts..._

"Minerva?" The exhausted elder witch brushed her hand against the young woman's cheek then smoothly tilted her head, forcing those beautiful, but conflicted emerald eyes to gaze at her. "What is troubling you, darling?"

The Gryffindor swallowed. "It's nothing, I was just thinking."

"About?"

Minerva narrowed her eyes. Maybe she could tell Galatea about the tampering later, but right now the woman simply needed to sleep, and Professor Slughorn should be there soon. She'd have to settle with something which might be easier for the elder witch to cope and agree with.

"I just... you were gone for four days and four nights. The whole time, no one had the slightest idea as of where you were- or if you were even _alive..._ You could have _died_ and no one would have known what happened to you!" The green eyed witch swallowed. "Next time, if you do something like that- or if Madam Nurix ever permits you to ever leave Hogwarts again -promise me that you will at least acknowledge my summons? I know you believed it was a risk to talk to me, I understand that. So, lets use some sort of code. One brief _'summon'_ means you're alive, and two indicates that you're in danger. Three... well, lets hope we never have to come to that."

Galatea probably would have never agreed to this if it wasn't for the fact that she was so drained of energy, but she did.

"All right," she said quietly, taking Minerva's hand again as she did. Her eyes stayed closed. "But this means I _will_ be placing another charm on them. If a summon is ever cold- it means someone else has the mirror." Those pale blue orbs suddenly snapped open, and squeezed her hand with a blunt force that caught her attention. Her voice shook from being physically and mentally tired, but also from the fierce determination. "Do not- under _any_ circumstances -take the bait if that happens, Minerva. You _must_ promise me that you will not answer it, even if I am dead, you must _not_ answer it! Untergang _cannae - know - who - you - are."_

The green eyed witch cupped her other hand around the woman's. "I promise."

"Good," Galatea breathed, then began to relax once more. "Good."

As if on cue, Minerva's enhanced hearing began to pick up the soft patter of footsteps beginning to enter from the Transfiguration classroom and then into Professor Dumbledore's office-along with a whistled version of the Hogwarts song.

"Ah, that would be Professor Slughorn."

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened and a student has been paralyzed, yet he finds himself in the mood to _whistle?"_

"I highly doubt he is in the mood, dear. Slytherin or not, he is actually a very sentimental man. No, Horace is whistling- that theme in particular -because it is us teachers' signal for _'all is safe'_."

"Surely you jest."

"I rarely do during such times, darling."

Minerva smiled, then gently draped the cool cloth over the woman's forehead, a little bit over her hairline, but barely touching her eyebrows.

"Sorry, but I'm having a hard time imagining you whistling." She kissed the woman's cheek. "Please get some sleep, okay?"

"I will probably be passed out the minute..." Galatea stifled a yawn, "...the minute you leave. Dinnae worry about me anymore, darling. I am back and I am alive."

"Alive, well, and still as beautiful as ever, m'dear."

Minerva turned around, seeing the Potions Master and the Head of Slytherin standing in the doorway, wearing a lavender and white tartan night robe along with a teasing grin.

"As it would seem, Professor Slughorn, you really should get your eyes checked, for I know I am particularly not _'beautiful as ever'_ at the moment," the elder witch stated flatly with a bit of a glare from her tired eyes.

The Potions professor laughed. "Well, you are certainly a sight for sore eyes, m'dear, I'll tell you that much. It is good to see you again, Galatea; you had everyone quite worried, even Dumbledore."

"Yes, yes, so I have been told."

The professor's large gooseberry eyes faltered in their amusement as they drifted around the room. "Ah, Miss McGonagall, I'm sure you've received Professor Dumbledore's Patronus message?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm ready if you wish to leave now."

"With all the events taken into consideration, I believe that would be for the best, m'dear," he said, now far more grave and serious than when he first entered.

Minerva glanced back at the elder witch then squeezed her hand. "I'll visit tomorrow."

"I would like that," she whispered, already half asleep, then weakly squeezed the young woman's hand back. The green eyed witch slowly let go, not entirely wanting to leave her alone after everything that had happened.

"Come along, m'dear, let's get you back."

"Yes, Sir," Minerva said, looking away from Galatea for the last time that night. Or was it morning already?

They walked across Transfiguration Courtyard in silence, but no farther than that if Professor Slughorn was going to have anything to do with it.

"I was told by Madam Nurix to extend her thanks for convincing Professor Merrythought to see her. She appreciates what you did beyond what words could probably express. Actually, I have a feeling that most of the staff will as well,_ if _Merrythought decides to tell us all what happened..."

Minerva nodded and flashed a quick smile towards her Potions professor. "Thank you, Sir."

"Professor Merrythought looked quite happy with you, even when she fell asleep. You must have some charm, m'dear, and I must say it is very refreshing to see. She deserves it, more than you know."

"I frequently find myself asking that, Professor, but I never know why."

"Isobel is still adamant on you not knowing anything?"

How in Merlin's name was it that her Potions professor knew that Isobel was _still_ keeping secrets- let alone that he used her mother's Christian name -was a little unnerving if she was honest.

"Yes, Sir."

"It's a shame, if you ask me. A shame on multiple levels, and Professor Merrythought has had to bear the brunt end of that shame."

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, forgive me, but I shouldn't say."

Minerva nodded, hiding her disappointment. She was used to that answer by now, thanks to Galatea. "You're forgiven, Professor."

The Potions Master clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I'm not sure I've been clear of how I knew your mother." When the witch shook her head, the man smiled. "We were classmates, myself a year ahead. She was a very lively young witch- after her first year, that is."

"What do you mean?"

"I think it could be safe to say that Isobel didn't have the best life. Coming to Hogwarts was the best thing that could have ever happened to her, literally."

"Is that why she hated Tradisi?"

"Oh, of that I am sure and much, _much_ more."

They turned into the corridor of the Fat Lady, where they could hear her humming the Hogwarts tune. Professor Slughorn replied with the same.

"Ah, Professor Slughorn?"

"How could you tell?"

"Your tune is always a bit off."

The Professor laughed. "A fair point, m'dear, I'll give you that."

The portrait laughed as well, but then stopped as her eyes came upon the Gryffindor. "Ah, and you've brought Miss McGonagall back safely. It is very good to see you back safe and sound, dear."

The dark haired witch raised a brow. _Just how much do the portraits know?_ she wondered.

"Now, Password?" The Fat Lady asked clearly changing the topic and not bothering to hear the witch's response. She was about to respond when she noted that the portrait wasn't looking at her but rather Professor Slughorn, almost as if she _knew_ Minerva would not have the correct one. All Houses' passwords must have all changed for security.

The professor's beard witched with humor. "That, for which lemons is utmost necessary."

The portrait giggled. "Oh, how I love Professor Dumbledore's passwords sometimes!" then opened.

Minerva smirked. Apparently Professor Dumbledore could still think of lemons, even during a crisis.

"That's the password?"

Slughorn shrugged. "The Headmaster had all the Houses assign the new ones in phrases to keep them extra secure. Alright then, off you go. Oh, if there's anything suspicious going on, do keep Gryffindor's portrait in the Common Room informed!"

"Will do, Professor, and thank you for your insight."

His eyes gave a rare twinkle as he smiled softly once more. "You are most welcome, m'dear."

Sensing that the wizard would be waiting until she disappeared from sight, green-eyed witch stepped through the portrait hole, then proceeded to walk into the common room without breaking her stride. When she entered the main room, all was quiet- as it should be at this time of night. Everyone was in their dorm room except for the new, dark haired Russian wizard.

Mikail was sleeping soundly on the sofa near the fireplace with one of his arms hanging off the side. His fingers nearly touched the floor, and they sparkled with little specks of jade green Floo powder. He was also still in his wizard robes from earlier. Why on earth he was still in the Common Room at this hour was beyond her.

She stared at him for a few moments, collecting her thoughts. Her life was endangered by Untergang; Mikail came from Durmstrang- a school that openly taught Legilimency, Occlumency and the Dark Arts; she needed someone to help her with these tampered memories, to recover them, fix them and uncover what was hidden; Galatea wanted her to become closer to him, to get him to trust her.

The pieces were placed together in a puzzle, the only problem was, the witch had no idea if the wizard knew Legilimency or not, nor if he knew anything about tampered memories. Then there were the other issues. _Would it work in the end? What if he really was the enemy? Would it be worth it?_

She shook her head at that last thought. Yes, it would be worth it. Besides, it wouldn't matter even if he was with the Untergang, they didn't know who they were looking for. _Galatea said to use that to my advantage any possible way, it might not be exactly how she meant it but still..._

What it really boiled down to was whether or not she wanted to discover the true depth of the tamperings; what they were, how old she was during that time; what was the importance of erasing and or falsifying them; but most importantly, what her true memories were. Simply put, the dark haired witch was willing to do just about anything to solve those questions that plagued her life- including Legilimency.

_So be it then._

The witch had made up her mind. She'd deal with whether or not her sisters would agree with the decision later. Despite the fact that she loved the woman, and after everything that had occurred this night, the elder witch was adamant about withholding secrets. If the she found out about Minerva's memory tamperings, or Mikail's involvement, the woman would put a stop to it if she realized what the green eyed Gryffindor could gain access to- or she would just simply be enraged by Mikail for using Legilimency on a student, particularly Minerva. Either way, it meant Galatea could not know.

It was with this mindset that she walked over the the sleeping, dashing wizard, and began to shake him.

"Mikail?" she whispered. "Mikail, wake up."

"_Five more minutes, mother,"_ he muttered in Russian. Minerva raised a brow, having no idea what he had said, but then proceeded to shake him again and this time with more force.

"Wake up, Mikail!" she hissed.

He groaned and his tawny brown eyes fluttered open, immediately centering upon her. He nearly jumped. "M-Minerva, you- you're back..."

The green eyed witch nodded somberly. "Yes..."

"Could you tell me vhat is troubling you? You're sisters vere keen on letting you tell me yourself. You looked vorried vhen you left, but you seem much more distressed than previously. Vhat happened?"

"Why does it matter to you?" she asked in a genuine tone and not a condescending manner. This entire process was going to be a dance, and while she did not know how to waltz, she definitely knew how to perform this one- being unintentionally taught how by none other than her mother. _If_ he was the enemy, then he was toying and manipulating everyone around him- and if there was anything that Minerva was good at, it was turning someone's game right around from under their noses. She had a small reason to thank Isobel for this- a moronic point of view really.

"I'm just concerned for you," he answered. "You do not have to talk if you do not vish."

Minerva narrowed her eyes.

"Something happened last night, something terrible. Actually, more like three things. One of them I shouldn't talk about, but the others..." she sighed. "You'll hear about the attack in the morning, anyway. Someone twisted, vile has petrified Mr O'Kier. No charm, no counter-spell or potion has worked to revive him..."

"How do you know?"

"There was a girl who found Wade and I heard her _scream._" she shuddered.

"Alright, I believe you." He sat up straighter and peered into her emerald eyes that held so much compassion. "What about the third?"

"My mem-" she stopped, then reordered her thoughts. She had to know he was a Legilimens first. "Mikail, please answer me truthfully."

"Have I given you doubt that I vould not?"

"No, but we hardly know each other..." she shrugged, then stared at him again, her emerald green eyes were tinted with a deadly seriousness that was making him feel a little uncomfortable. "Did you study Legilimency at Durmstrang?"

He blinked. On the outside he was completely calm, it came with being a skilled Occlumens, but on the inside he was very nervous. "Vhy do you ask?"

"Because if you did, then I have a terrible, personal favor to ask of you."

"_A terrible favor?_ Minerva, vhat is it that-"

"Are you a Legilimens or not, Mikail?" she re-stated her question bluntly.

He blinked, reminded of just how fierce and stubborn the witch could be. "I... studied it for five years. I vas one of the best at Durmstrang."

Then her emerald eyes sparkled. "Do you know anything about mind tampering, or how to recover one's correct memories?"

Now he grew very concerned. Any sort of tampering within memories meant another Legilimens had to have merged with another's mind and physically weaved in their will- it was by no means an easy task.

"Is that vhat this '_favor'_ is about?"

"Very much so."

"And it's about you?" The green eyed witch gave him a _'what do you think?'_ glare that answered his question without a doubt.

"I dabbled in the subject a little bit, but if you're needing me to actually conduct the process I vill need to do some more research." He licked his lips in nervousness. "Forgive me for asking, but are you positive that your memories vere tampered vith? Memory tampering is... ah- it is a very difficult thing to realise, or come to terms with."

"I assure you, Mikail, they have," she said flatly, clearly not wanting comfort and ignoring his personal question towards her mental state. "Professor Dumbledore confirmed it and I trust him."

_More than words can express at the moment,_ she thought to herself, then brought her eyes back to the wizard. His tawny colored eyes were very wide. "Please, tell me you will help me."

"You have my vord," he answered her with a strong, deep tone that convinced her he was telling the truth. "I vould make an Unbreakable Vow if it were necessary, Minerva."

She nodded, but then the question lingered. "Why?"

"Vhy would I help you?" he scoffed in amusement. "Vhy shouldn't I?"

"I'm serious, Mikail. Why help me? We've only known each other for a few days."

His eyes softened, almost in sadness as they slowly looked away. "If I vere in your position, I vould very much vant someone to help me. I positively despise the idea of memory tampering as it is. It's such a vile procedure, very unethical. I vish it vere never possible."

Silence came over them for a few moments. Just by the tone in his voice, the way he answered, she knew he was telling the truth, one way or another. If he was her enemy, then they were now bound by truth; if he wasn't, then they were on the verge of friendship.

Her anxious mind forced Minerva to do something, so she removed the clip and let her nearly black hair cascaded down from its tight french twist. She didn't notice Mikail's eyes quickly widen at the sight, nor his jaw slacken.

The way the moonlight fell upon her skin, hair and eyes made her almost glow. Her eyes sparkled for the mere second that Minerva transfigured the clip back into her original red ribbon. She fiddled with it for a moment, feeling the silky fabric, and knowingly denied him the pleasure of looking directly into her emerald eyes. She kept going over the brief glimpse of her mother whispering things in her ear while glass was shattered across the floor. The same glass which had previously ground itself into her hands as she attempted to wipe away her tears.

Minerva finally snapped out of her thoughts and grasped the ribbon, reminding herself once again that she had no idea if anything from that memory was true. She stood up, then banished the scarlet fabric onto her desk near the mirror in the dormitory. Her emerald green eyes glanced at the fire still burning. Mikail stood up as well, more slowly than she had, then walked over to her side. He was going to ask if she was alright, but she spoke first.

"To completely answer your previous question, coming to terms with the tamperings; I don't want sympathy. This is my life and I deal with it as it comes." She had to keep him at a distance, at least that much. Besides, she barely knew him; compassion shouldn't be shared between strangers during times of war.

His tawny eyes glinted with the fire as they narrowed- possibly in confusion. "That doesn't mean you von't be-"

She glared at him and with a bit of ice in her voice she cut him off. "No sympathy, Mikail. I just have to find what is hidden." her voice softened, although her gaze did not.

"If you don't mind me asking, do you know who tampered with your memories?"

"My mother."

That left him speechless. He wanted to extend his sympathies, to give her support, but he got the feeling that all it would accomplish would be to push her further away. She was a strong woman, one who did not want any sort of pity bestowed upon her. He admired her greatly for that, but as he watched her disappear up the spiral stone staircase and towards her dormitory, he could not help but feel extraordinarily concerned about the witch- much more than he legitimately should.

Tampering with someone's memories was akin to changing someone's identity. He shuddered to think of who he'd be if his own memories had been tampered with... especially when it came to Minerva. That thought scared him the most.

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><p><strong>Guess who got bombarded with a 5-6 pages paper gain? Yup, lucky me...<strong>

**Memory Tampering, the Untergang and Chamber of Secrets, oh my! If you haven't already gathered; this year shall be absolute chaos... and I love it :D  
>~LinK<strong>


	24. Reasoning

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

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><p><strong>AN:**

**~I am so terribly sorry for the prolonged delay.** I did not expect this chapter to be so incredibly difficult for me. I usually have a little trouble with "filler" chapters, but not like this -working on a paper doesn't help that fact either, let me tell you! I ended up adding a little "bonus idea" which Nut-Meg helped me develop in order to get things rolling- it wasn't planned, but it works and I love it. Thank you so much dear, and thank you my lovely betas! **Enjoy an 11k!**

~This chapter is sort of comprised of stress. Keep in mind that the girls are only 16-17 and are completely in-over their heads with "stuff".**  
><strong>

**Side note: **After nearly three weeks of patiently waiting- I finally received word yesterday that Galatea Merrythought would be added to the Character list- and she has been added: "**G. Merrythought**"! :D Yes, it is safe to assume I shall be writing Galatea's story **_after_** PoaG is finished.

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><p><strong>Chapter 23 - Reasoning <strong>

**September 6th, 1942 (continued):**

_"He_ is going to do _what?"_ Poppy's hazel eyes flared, a cross between terror and disbelief. It may very well have been a Sunday, but all five girls were out of bed and in the corridors by seven thirty in the morning, with Pomona meeting them in the Transfiguration Courtyard as per usual. This time, however, the circumstances were far from the norm.

The moment Minerva entered the dormitory last night, she was bombarded by questions from a very worried Poppy- Rolanda and Augusta had given up hopes of her returning before midnight and succumbed to sleep. The green eyed witch simply told her a few quick answers in order to get her sister to calm down, then said that she would inform all four girls of the night's events in the morning. In all honesty, she wasn't ready to tell Poppy of the deal she had struck a few minutes before, and she was certainly glad she had waited, given the apprentice healer's intense reaction. Minerva couldn't blame her; after all, she probably would have done the same- but the fact of the matter was; her memories had been tampered with.

The green eyed witch sighed, rubbing her temples. "Mikail is going to use a method of Legilimency to-"

"I know what _he_'s _doing!"_ the furious healer snapped. "The fact of the matter is that you are letting _him_ do it!"

"Well, what other option is there?" Rolanda said, earning a death glare from the hazel eyed witch. "I'm serious, Poppy. If Min's memories have been tampered with, how else is she going to fix it?"

"I have to agree with Rola," the Hufflepuff spoke up. She and Augusta had been rather quiet since Minerva informed them of the tamperings. "There is no other alternative and Min needs to get to the bottom of this mystery."

"But not by using such an invasive method from a wizard who could possibly be _the enemy!"_

"Poppy, Galatea also asked me to get to know him, to have him trust me, this is just another way of doing that."

"Merrythought wouldn't agree to this though! It's too unconventional, unorthodox- far more than your new Occlumency lessons- and _don't even get me started on those!"_

"But if Minerva finds out what she needs to, if this really is the key towards figuring out what Isobel is hiding, then wouldn't it be worth it?" Augusta added quietly. "Fight fire with fire?"

"No, this is over the line!" the medi-witch in training hissed. "Having Legilimency used upon someone is one thing, but to have the man performing it, who has possibly has ties with the Untergang- who, might I add, _are trying to find and kill Minerva!_ -makes for an entirely different situation on its own! Don't you see that? Don't _any_ of you?" Her hazel eyes softened with worry as she gazed upon her dark-haired sister. "Min, please, I'm begging you, don't do this..."

"I have to, Poppy."

"But why with _him? _I don't understand! Dumbledore is helping you with Occlumency and has already seen one of the hidden memories- why not ask him instead? He's done so much for you already, I highly doubt the Professor would have a problem with it..."

"Not only would it be violating the teachers' code- which he and Galatea have already broken several times with my lessons alone -but if Professor Dumbledore was caught helping me with this, using Legilimency on a student for reasons not authorized, he'd be sacked before you could say _'Quidditch'!_ Not only that, but he is also a colleague of Galatea. If we discovered something which involved her and my màthair, or simply something very unpleasant..." Minerva drifted off with her emerald green eyes narrowing, but before Poppy could comment, she shook her head then spoke her mind again. "I don't want to put him in the middle of something like that, or get swept up within Màthair's schemings. Besides, he has a lot on his mind already with the war going on and the Chamber of Secrets opening."

"It's just... something about _him,_ and this entire situation, rubs me the wrong way. I don't like that _he_'s here when the Untergang is looking for you!"

"Poppy, do you trust me?"

"Min, I will _always_ trust you; it's _him_ that I don't trust!"

"You think I like this situation anymore than you do? I simply don't have a choice! Dumbledore is too busy, and there is no way I'm going to add this on top of everything else he's having to worry about- nor risk his job. I simply couldn't do it..." The green eyed witch placed her hands on the angered witch's shoulders and peered into her eyes, silently asking for understanding. "Trust me when I say that I have this under control. If Mikail is the enemy, then I've manipulated him into thinking that I trust him and need him- and I've got him in the reverse."

"No. No, that's not good enough!" Poppy's own hands began to shake as she took her sister's from her shoulders and enclosed her palms within them. "Damn it, Min, I'm scared for you! Can you not understand that? If they got to Galatea, then they could very easily get to you!"

"They don't know that I am who they're searching for-"

"Not yet..." the healer interrupted quite cynically, before she sighed and then looked away in defeat, her arms falling to her side once more. "I'm sorry, Min, but I simply cannot morally support your decision. I'll keep it secret as long as events do not take a turn for the worst, but that is all."

Minerva lowered her head as well. It was more than she could have asked, she supposed, but the fact remained; Poppy was against the very thing that could possibly help her solve the mystery of her mother. She had always previously agreed on matters involving this, and had always been supportive. It was clear that there wasn't much else she could say. Like her, Poppy was equally as stubborn.

"Very well."

There was a few moments of awkward silence, none of the five witches knew what to say, although it was clear that the lone opposing young woman was becoming conflicted within herself as the seconds ticked by.

"I'm going to the Hospital Wing, Madam Nurix should be there soon," she said, mainly to herself. Yet, the healer stayed for a moment- clearly a bit torn -but then she left, briskly walking down the hallway towards her destination, leaving a break of silence within the group until a certain hawk-eyed witch finally snapped.

"I can't believe she's not on board with this!" Rolanda leaped from the ground and began pacing.

"It's not very hard to fathom. I mean, we are talking about Legilimency, invasion of the mind," Pomona stated softly. "I can see where she's coming from, however, the fact that your mother has meddled with your mind crossed the line. You have every right to go as far as you need to in order to discover what was lost- regardless of the dangers."

"A Badger 'til the end, Mona."

The Hufflepuff shrugged, though her facial expression grew rather grave. "I don't like it when people mess with my friends- and when minds are being tampered with, well... you give me the chance and I'll hex them to their grave."

Suddenly, Rolanda sparked a brief warning within her mind, alerting her of an intruder.

"Ahem," a deep, charming masculine voice spoke from behind. Minerva turned around with a hint of a smile, already knowing who it was. The Russian wizard was still walking towards them, his brilliant eyes sparkling in the sunlight despite him being obviously tired.

"Mikail, you're up early, as usual."

"It vould appear that you all are as vell." He nodded politely to the other three witches and greeted them. "Good morning, ladies."

"Morning, Mikail. You look exhausted- if you don't mind me saying," Augusta spoke up, overly blunt as ever, and Minerva had the urge to inflict a minor hex on the girl- although the wizard did not seem to take it badly. He shrugged.

"I did not get much sleep last night."

Augusta snorted in partial amusement, but also annoyance. "Join the club, none of us did either."

"So sorry I kept you, dear. You can go back to snogging Kevin when he wakes up." The green eyed witch rolled her eyes with a slight chuckle, then focused her attention towards the wizard again. She got the feeling he wasn't there just for protection from squealing witches. "Is there something you wanted, Mikail?"

"Yes, I vish to speak with you," he glanced at the girls for a second then back to her, his eyes narrowing slightly, "privately."

The green eyed witch could take a hint when there was one and nodded. They walked over to a secluded area and Minerva wandlessly cast a silencing charm around them. The Russian wizard must have felt the soft pulse of magic, for he turned his head to face her with a small smile on his lips.

"Very impressive."

Minerva shrugged, used to the other students marveling at her magical prowess. He had taken note of her continuous nonchalant behavior towards praise of her magic, but that didn't mean he was any less in awe.

"I gather that this is regarding what 'we talked about' last night," she said, straightforward and to the point. Something else he admired.

"It is." Mikail leaned against his back against the nearby wall, crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. "I have done some thinking about it- actually, 'a lot' vould be more accurate. To be more specific, it's about your _favor."_

"Are you worried about being caught?" her voice was a bit agitated, though he couldn't figure out why.

"No, I-"

"Then you should be, Mikail," the witch said rather hauntingly, but at the same time kept her expression calm- mainly so she wouldn't laugh at the irony. She should be worried about being caught as well, only Merlin knew how Galatea would take it if she found out. "Using Legilimency at Hogwarts, when unauthorized by the Ministry, will get you expelled."

"I am not vorried, Minerva, and I am not backing down, I vould just like to be sure that this is really vhat you vant to do. "

The green eyed witch sniffed sharply. "My sisters and friends know about our agreement, just so we are clear."

"As crystal, and I approve- just so you know," he confirmed without hesitation. "They are very loyal to you, I do not doubt their resolve towards keeping this a secret."

His concerned demeanor should have been troubling, and it should have made Minerva walk away, however, she found that she couldn't. She could handle this; being on both sides of her ambition. The want for answers, but also the precaution with the possibility that Mikail could be the enemy. Yet, there was something within his attitude, his eyes, words and posture, all of which seemed to portray that he had nothing to hide. It was strange, and it gave the green eyed witch the sense that he truly had no reason not to help her- which was troubling all the same.

"Poppy isn't in agreement though; she believes that the method is wrong on moral grounds."

"Vhat do you believe?" his voice was genuine, despite the unsettling nature of it.

"I believe that she is right, but that doesn't matter."

"It doesn't?"

"No. Under normal circumstances I'd probably agree with her and never have asked you in the first place- but these aren't normal, far from it. I'm tired of chasing for answers. I don't care what method I have to use, it's my mind being tampered with, not someone else's. I should be the one to make the decision of what is too far."

The Russian wizard narrowed his serious, brown eyes. "And vhat would be _'too far'_?"

"The Dark Arts, or something which inflicts pain. Legilimency just makes things... _uncomfortable_." The witch's eyes hardened, remembering the feeling of the spell being performed upon her.

He nodded. "True, and I agree with you on all accounts."

That surprised her, not just his words, but the truth behind them.

"Even the Dark Arts?" she countered.

"I may know how to use them, Minerva, but let me make this clear: I do not use them unless there is no other vay. It is dishonorable, and my family has been founded in honor. If something is wrong, ve stay a_v_ay from it- but if there is a moral obligation, even one vith questionable methods, then ve do it; vhich is another reason vhy I feel I must help you. It vould be dishonorable for me to deny you peace of mind."

"Mikail, I told you, no sy-"

"Vhether or not you vant sympathy, Minerva, I can not help vhat I feel. If I vere in your position I vould vant someone to help me. I don't understand vhy you came to me, I know you could go to a teacher and ask them to help you instead- but you chose me. Vhatever your reasons are, they don't matter to me; vhat does, is for you to figure out who you are."

Her green eyes flashed at his words. "And who am I, Mikail?"

"A vitch who is very powerful, has compassion, and has been greatly wronged by her mother."

While his reasoning was sound, it didn't mean that was how he truly felt- and the thought of him wanting to discover more about her crept in again.

"Am I a mystery? Do you want to solve me?" she rounded quickly.

"Vhat are you talking about?"

Minerva realized that he didn't know what was going on- why she would ask these sorts of questions. He wasn't dodging them like someone with something to hide would. It could mean only one of two things- Mikail simply wasn't part of the Untergang, or he was, but she was under no suspicion yet.

"Forgive me, I'm used to people wanting something from me," she lied- only partially though.

"You are forgiven. It must not be easy to know your memories have been tampered vith."

"And so much more..." she muttered under her breath. He flashed her a glance of bewilderment, but she ignored him. It wasn't the time to tell him her life story- or rather mystery.

Suddenly, the green eyed witch felt Poppy reach out for her, their thoughts and feelings once again mingled. There was still that pang of hurt, maybe a slight bit of betrayal but no more than that, however, their friendship was still there, that was for certain.

_Um, Minerva,_ the honey glazed voice spoke with a tad of nervousness, no doubt unsure of how Minerva would react towards her 'speaking' with her again._ Helena left me a note to tell you that Merrythought is in her personal rooms._

_Huh, Fawkes maybe?_ There was always a slight problem with the connection speaking exactly what they thought every now and then.

_What?_

_Oh, sorry, Fawkes could have transported Galatea without moving her around the school… less medical complications that way- thank you for telling me, Poppy._ Minerva felt the other witch sigh in disappointment before they both drifted away from each other's connection once more.

_Glad to know she's not abandoning us,_ Rolanda thought. It was always near impossible to keep one from hearing the other's thoughts without shutting the other off. For the most part it was a good thing, considering how attached the trio usually were.

The green eyed witch smiled a bit. _Agreed, now I think I shall be-_

"Minerva?" Mikail's voice interrupted her train of thought. "Did I lose you for a moment?"

"Sorry, I was thinking."

The wizard smirked in amusement. "Very deeply, I might add."

"Was there anything else you wished to speak about?"

"Not at the moment."

The witch smiled quickly. "Well then, I must be off."

He looked rather confused when she turned around and headed for the stairs, more than likely wondering where she had to be so early- and on a Sunday of all days.

* * *

><p>Taking a deep, calming breath, Minerva knocked on the door. There was a moment of silence before Galatea spoke up, "Just a moment."<p>

She stood there patiently for about a minute and a half, just hearing soft murmurs, before the entrance opened up and revealing the Head Matron on her way to leave.

"Ah, Miss McGonagall, I wondered if it was you." The healer's voice, although louder than a whisper, was still very weak. Her eyes were a bit red and moist. She'd been crying, there was no doubt about that. "Go on in, dear, Galatea has been waiting for you since she woke up."

Minerva hardly had a chance to reply before the medi-witch began walking away. She wasn't sure what possessed her, but she grabbed the woman's hand as she passed by and looked into her bleary grey eyes. "Madam Nurix, is everything alright?"

"If you're referring to Galatea's state, then yes. She's feeling much better than before. Give her two days and she should be able to walk around, by the tenth she should be back to work."

"I'm glad to hear that, Madam, but are _you_ alright?"

The question nearly made the woman falter. "Y-you are very kind to ask that, Miss McGonagall, but I assure you that I will be fine."

"But you're not now..."

"No, I'm afraid I'm not, but I've been through worse. The fact that Galatea is alive and well, is good enough for the moment." She gave a weak smile, half knowing that nothing she could say would convince the young woman. She was simply too smart for her own good. "Now go on, you shouldn't keep her waiting too long."

Minerva bit her lip, unsure of exactly what to do, but eventually turned around after the healer did and walked into the room.

After receiving much needed rest from last night, Galatea looked almost revived- save for the long spiral wound on her arm, the cut on her cheek, and- although she could not see it -her shoulder that was still undoubtedly healing. Her color was near to completely rejuvenated and her crystal blue eyes no longer lingered with pain. It stopped the Gryffindor Prefect in her tracks. If she were able to, she'd probably have been brought to tears from pure relief and happiness at the sight.

The elder witch smiled and stretched out her arms. "Come here, darling."

With a smile that broke into a grin, the green eyed witch nearly ran to the woman- though she slowed down a bit before embracing her. For a moment there was nothing to worry about; the war wasn't a problem, Untergang wasn't a threat, Mikail wasn't a possible danger, the Chamber of Secrets didn't exist, Poppy's refusal didn't bother her, Galatea hadn't come close to dying last night, her mother wasn't keeping secrets and nor had she tampered with her memory.

For just a moment, Minerva's life was normal and there was absolutely nothing to worry about. It was just her and Galatea. But it wasn't to last, and soon the green eyed witch returned to reality, one where the elder woman had almost been taken from her. She never, ever, wanted that to happen. The woman was far too important to her.

"It's so good to see you feeling better."

"Thank you, I quite agree myself."

Minerva kissed the woman's forehead, then let her previous worries form into words. "Is Madam Nurix alright? She looked rather upset when she passed by."

"Oh Helena..." Galatea inhaled and closed her eyes for a moment, erasing the sorrowful thoughts that arose from the simple question before opening them again as she exhaled quietly. "She is just worried, dear, and unfortunately there is not much anyone can really say to help her with that."

"She's worried about you, still? But you're recovered, are you not?"

The woman's eyes glazed over as she glanced out the window. It was a bit unnerving as of why the woman was avoiding her question.

"I'm not going to get a straight answer, am I?"

"No, not with this. It is something between Helena and I, nothing you need to worry about." She smiled, and Minerva got the feeling that it was a little forced. Galatea's tone changed, as did the topic of their discussion with the disappearance of her smile. "Child, I want you to be careful. I know I have said this before but I mean it. This year is going to be hell if the Chamber's Heir continues these attacks."

"Do you know how the professors know that this is the Heir of Slytherin's doing? How do they know all this anyhow? Is it just speculation?"

The woman huffed in dark humour. "I wish it were, but alas it is not. There was writing... the words, _'The Heir of Slytherin has returned. The Chamber of Secrets has opened. Those against the Heir beware,'_ was written on the walls near Mr Wade's body, in blood." Minerva felt her jaw slacken as a cold shiver prickled up her spine. "Professor Dumbledore is not entirely convinced. He thinks it may be a vile and horrendous trick- although he is skeptical about who could have made a petrification curse so powerful that it doesn't have a counter-spell. Nevertheless, he is following the Headmaster's orders without hesitation from his part."

"Could a member of the Untergang have done such a thing?"

"I highly doubt it. They may be good, but none of them are _that_ talented- not even Dumbledore can perform a such feat like that. He believes that there is a creature involved, but he does not understand how it would have entered Hogwarts undetected and paralyzed Mr Wade without someone hearing or seeing it roam around the castle. The entire situation is very frustrating."

"Do we know who the Heir of Slytherin is? I mean we know that he has to be someone from Salazar Slytherin's descendent... wait, Galatea, I-"

"No, Minerva. Just because Athena's father was Salazar Slytherin, does _not_ make you his heir. I told you that he left his daughter, disowned her in his eyes. From that point on, your family has never been acknowledged as part of his family. Youare _Rowena's_ heir."

"No, I'm not. Helena Ravenclaw was the heir, and she died. There has been no heir since then, and besides, I'm in Gryffindor."

The elder witch smiled softly, and was about to speak when a loud voice echoed throughout the castle.

'_All students please report to the Great Hall immediately, the Headmaster wishes to make an announcement.'_

"An _'announcement'_?" the elder witch scoffed. Armando really didn't know how to handle crises at all well. "Well, if that is not the biggest understatement I have heard in _half a century,_ I do not know what would be."

"Agreed." Minerva sighed. "I should get going then. Now, I don't want to hear from Poppy or Madam Nurix that you haven't been resting, you've been through a lot and I want you to get better."

Galatea pursed her lips, though a gleam of amusement sparkled in her eyes. "Very well, my dear, but only if you stay out of trouble."

The green eyed witch laughed.

* * *

><p>Poppy hadn't entirely been honest when she said her mentor would be in the Hospital Wing 'soon'. She knew the woman would be with Professor Merrythought, and consequently figured she'd be a bit later than normal. The healer decided to throw herself into getting her day started. The weekends always proved to give the healers something to do, for better or worse. However, when the Head Matron still had yet to make an appearance into the main ward after twenty minutes passed her said time, Poppy grew a bit worried. Helena was hardly ever this late unless something majorly unfortunate happened to take her focus away from the Hospital.<p>

She wondered if she had missed another note on the billboard outside the woman's office and went to check it over when she began to hear voices in the room.

"...they _true,_ Helena?" the voice a was bit distorted from the Floo's fire, but it was alarmingly familiar.

"Depends on what you heard." The woman's voice was very bitter, sharp and edged in a curtly cynical manner, which the young medi-witch found rather odd. She had never heard her mentor speak like that before, not even to a patient who was deliberately not following her orders.

"Do not play me for a fool, it's all over the Ministry." The familiar voice was dreadfully calm. "Was Galatea injured in a fight against the Untergang?"

"What's in it for you?" Helena asked, her tone now changing into something boiling near hateful hostility.

"How _dare_ you ask such a thing? Do you think this is for my benefit alone? That I'm trying to gain knowledge to use against Galatea and my daughter?"

Poppy's eyes flared as the sudden feeling of dread came over her. She should have recognized the voice from the beginning- it was Isobel! But what was she doing here, asking such questions to the Head Matron, and why was Helena acting so... hateful? Granted, the apprentice healer knew Mrs McGonagall deserved it, but Helena didn't know anything regarding those reasons... _did she?_ If there was anything to be learned from Minerva's family 'complex', it was to expect the unexpected and to always keep it in mind as a possibility of the truth. This might very well be one of them.

"Why, it's almost as if you can read my mind, Isobel," the medi-witch seethed spitefully. "Yes, that is _exactly _what I think! You may very well have had good intentions for wanting to know if Galatea is alive, but beyond that, they are for your own doings. I know what you're like, what you've done and continue to do. I have seen how your plans, your goals, your methods are pushing Galatea away and not _once _have you ever thought about how much it pains her because you do not have to see it. You do not have to see, feel, or live with the despair that you have wrought upon her! You have wrecked _everything;_ her hopes, her dreams, her wishes and very near her soul!"

The woman's voice continued raving, but her voice dropped into a tone that Poppy almost grew terrified over. She prayed that she would never be on the receiving end of such a brutal, verbal attack.

"How_ dare_ _**I,**_ you say? Well, I ask you this: How _dare __**you **_turn your back on _her,_ after everything that she has done and sacrificed for you? How _dare you_ turn her away? How _dare you _come to _**me **_and ask if she is alive? You... you have _**NO IDEA**_ what you have cost her! Leave, _Isobel,_ for you shall not get answers from me!"

With that, the connection was cut and a silence haunted the room. Poppy's hazel eyes widened. She didn't know what to think. Perhaps that was for the best; perhaps she couldn't have knocked on the door; perhaps she should have ignored the aching sorrow she felt for her mentor. But she did none of those things. What she _did _do was hesitate when walking into the room so she could place a Silencing charm on the office after slowly opening the door, then placed another charm to prevent any disturbances caused by sound.

The woman sat in her armchair near the fireplace, her hands covering her face. It wasn't exactly clear if there were tears, or if the woman was crying or not, but Poppy could tell that the woman was in pain. Whether it was physically, emotionally, or both, she was unsure of. She decided with the latter.

"Helena?" the younger witch spoke in a very soft voice, not wanting to startle the woman as she drew near. The medi-witch removed her hands from her face and looked at the intruder. Her eyes were stained from merely a few tears, but hints of distressed rage was still present. However, they softened tremendously upon seeing her apprentice, causing a few more tears to roll down her face.

"Oh gods... you heard that, didn't you?"

The younger witch didn't answer, not really. She wrapped her arms around the woman, whom then leaned into her.

"Yes, but I don't entirely understand it." The woman was about to say something, but Poppy hushed her into silence and continued. "However, what I do understand is that you are hurting, Helena, and I wish I could make it go away. It hurts me to see you like this."

The healer trembled. "I have felt like that every day since I meet Galatea, Poppy... and I am so tired of not being able to stop it..."

* * *

><p>The room was deathly silent as the students walked into the hall. Word had spread quickly that there had been an attack last night it seemed, although the grave expression on the staff members' faces was enough to make the most vocal of first years go mute.<p>

Professor Dumbledore looked especially troubled. His lack of sleep and anxiety from Galatea's disappearance didn't help that fact either. While his face did not show it, his deep blue sapphire eyes had the sunken appearance of deep distress, and Minerva was once again reminded that while Dumbledore seemed to never display his emotional anguish, he was human just like everyone else. Poppy wasn't present, which considering their previous disagreement, none of the girls found it very particularly odd, although her absence left a sad reminder of that fact.

"In light of recent events," the Headmaster began after everyone had taken their seats, "I have called you all here. Between the very late hours of last night and the wee hours of this morning; a terrible act was committed against another student. Mr Wade was attacked last night, paralyzed, and no counter-spell has successfully been able to unlock him. The culprit responsible for this left a message on the wall stating: _The Heir of Slytherin has returned. The Chamber of Secrets has opened. Those against the Heir beware._"

Minerva looked over the the Slytherin House' table. It could be any of them- yes, even Dolores Umbridge. However, the green eyed witch spotted Riddle and her blood ran cold remembering the last words she heard him speak to her: _'Things will be changing around here and you'll want to be on the right side when that happens.'_

It was all clear to her now. The Chamber of Secrets was the change which the sly, vial snake had tried to recruit her into. She shuddered in repulsion of what she might have gotten herself into if she had accepted.

"I am telling you all this," the ancient wizard continued, "in hopes that someone with a courageous, intellectual, ambitious, or loyal soul, who knows anything remotely related about this event to come forth. The Staff and I are fully committed to keeping your identity a secret if you wish do explain your knowledge anonymously."

Yet, the fact remained that the green eyed witch had no proof. She was just a Prefect, and by all accounts, Riddle had just as much power, authority and respect as she did. The thought alone was maddening. She needed to find out what he was doing, where the Chamber was and who were all involved with this petty game.

She should also warn young Malcom and Hagrid- especially Hagrid. The poor boy, although certainly not little, was being subjected to the same sort of ridiculous bullying, and with no one to truly help him. Not even Dumbledore could protect the half-giant all the time.

Not a single student raised their hand, got up or spoke. Not a one. And so, the Headmaster was forced to adjourn the 'announcement' and let the students go. There was nothing else that he could say apparently, despite Professor Dumbledore's obvious disapproval. His deep, tired blue eyes narrowed at Professor Dippet, almost as if he was going to start an argument, then his gaze shifted, peering at Tom Riddle. She noted as his fists clenched. It would have appeared to be just an ordinary movement of the hand, but Minerva could see past it. The Slytherin concerned Dumbledore.

_It's not just me then… _she smiled inwardly.

The four girls- along with Kevin and Mikail -decided to stay at the tables to work on their homework, which involved Minerva Conjuring just about everyone's work- not that she minded really, it was better than running up twelve flights of stairs to the Gryffindor Tower and back down again. Augusta ended up becoming rather frustrated with her NEWT History work, which was followed by Kevin into wrapping an arm around her middle and kissing her lightly on the lips before beginning to help her. It always calmed her down enough so that she could focus- whether it was because she was focusing on Kevin after that was unknown.

Pomona was busy reading about Mandrakes, not that she needed to, but rather because she was interested in helping Professor Beery in the process of creating the potions when the shipment of the plants came in. It was the only process which was deemed plausible release the students. The Mandrakes would have to be ripened, primed and then harvested, however, before anything could be done. In other words, it would be months before any victims could be released from their frozen state.

Rolanda had been diligently working on her Defensive Arts essay on the Shield charm- which was looking rather impressive as far as Minerva was concerned -until an owl came in for her, carrying a letter from Xavier. The girl teared up just reading it. The wizard was absolutely enjoying his time in training, and constantly thinking about how much she would enjoy it and that he missed her, but at the same time he was very glad that he'll be out on the front soon and making a difference. He wished her well, then told her that he'd send another letter before training ended and he was deported to start bombing raids in France. The hawk-eyed girl immediately started writing a reply, completely forgetting her essay.

It wasn't long after that when two more owls swooped in, one wearing a red collar signifying 'urgent' mail. Surprisingly, the tagged owl flew over to Minerva, dropping the letter with precision, then flew out again to receive its next assignment.

The other bird stopped near Professor Slughorn who was at the Staff table, but the green eyed witch hardly took notice of it while she ripped open her letter. It was from Professor Dumbledore.

Rolanda's quill suddenly dropped.

"Min, isn't that your mum's owl with Slughorn?"

Minerva glanced to her right. Sure enough, it was that same brown, white speckled owl that had been delivering the McGonagall mail for the past year and a half. 'Toby' he was called. The green eyed witch never really liked him, he tended to try and take a bite of her fingers and in return she'd usually hex him with a good sting to the beak.

"Oh, bugger," the Gryffindor Prefect muttered under her breath. This complicated things. "Yes, Rola, that unfortunately is."

"What the devil sort of business does Slughorn have with your mother?" Pomona asked, glancing up from her books.

"I'm not sure, but it means that Màthair has an inside source, whether he knows about anything or not."

"Let's hope Merrythought and Dumbledore haven't been telling the Staff about you then."

The green eyed witch quickly grabbed her things and put them into her bag, her movements slightly flushed with a boiling pot of mixed emotions. She needed to leave and clear her head, and she knew just where to go, especially with her newly received letter.

"And just where are you going now?" the hawk-eyed witch asked as Minerva swung her legs from the table's bench.

"The Library, I've got clearance to get into the restricted section." She nearly ran off before a thought came to her, and stopped near Mikail to whisper in his ear, "Meet me in the common room around six."

The wizard smiled, but before he could say anything the witch was gone.

_Minerva? I... I need to talk to you, _Poppy's voice echoed into the dark haired witch's mind while she was racing up the first flight of stairs. _No, I haven't changed my mind, and no, I'm not trying to convince you- but you need to hear this._

Minerva halted her pace before she rounded the corner to go up to the second floor. There was something in the healer's voice, it was unsettled and disquieted. _What's wrong?_

_I overheard a conversation between Helena and your mum and... please, just get here. I'd rather say it in front of you than with thoughts, I think they will get too jumbled. I don't know exactly how helpful it will be, but you should hear them anyway. It made Helena very upset... I have **never** heard her talk in that tone of voice before, it was so haunting._

_I'll be there soon. Where are you?_

_Just outside the Hospital Wing, and I think we should try out your ability to Glimpse into my mind. If our connections are good for something, it would be that._

Minerva nearly groaned. _Poppy, we all agreed that we wouldn't conduct-_

_Oh, for Merlin's sake, Minerva, it's not Legilimency! And it wouldn't kill you to expand on what your astral ability lets you do, it could actually be useful for when the Untergang decides to show up at your doorstep and kill you! _..._Sorry, that was a bit uncalled for. Just hurry, Min. I don't know how long I can stay away from Helena without being noticed._

The green-eyed witch sighed. _Alright, alright,_ she thought as she made a turn towards the Hospital and ran down the corridor. What Poppy had 'said' was true, 'Glimpsing' into the mind of someone as she was able to do was not Legilimency. They were similar, but not the same. Glimpsing involved hearing thoughts, feeling emotions, sometimes even seeing dreams or memories if they were solely going through that person's mind at the current moment, not the past. Like Legilimency, it did not involve mutual willingness, however, it also meant that the caster could not physically pry into things. In other words, if Occlumency was being used, Glimpsing was utterly useless. Yet, unlike Legilimency, when the victim is unconscious the method continues to work, although it is only beneficial when someone is dreaming.

Minerva slowed her pace as she neared the Hospital Wing entrance, her eyes searching for her sister. She finally spotted her, dressed in her maroon and white matron robes embroidered with a Gryffindor crest, in an empty room that was no doubt only used when the main ward was overcapacity.

"Good, you're here." Her hazel eyes were bleary.

"What's going on?"

Poppy bit her lip, remembering her mentor's words. "I really shouldn't say… but I _will_ tell you if Glimpsing my mind doesn't work."

"All right then... but if you're sure-"

"Yes, Minerva. It's been bothering me more than it should, has me thinking things I'd rather not." The green-eyed witch raised a brow in question, but her sister shook her head, her long, rust colored hair gently swaying with her. She took a step closer towards Minerva, then nodded her head. "Go on."

The dark haired witch stared into Poppy's eyes and let her mental state drift into her sister's mind almost as if it was natural to her. At first, all around her was pitch black as the feeling of nervousness swirled around the void, but then it calmed down and slowly but surely, the healer brought the memory into focus.

The entire scene played through her mind as if Minerva _was_ using Legilimency, however, it could also be compared to a Pensive or watching a Muggle film as well. It was different, surreal, as if she was living it, but viewing it from afar at the same time. Poppy hadn't been kidding when she said Madam Nurix's tone of voice was rather haunting to say the least. To hear a usually proud, calm and stern woman who looked after children's well being speak in a near murderous hatred was very unnerving indeed, and she could see why Poppy was a bit disturbed, although more shocked than anything.

Yet the very last piece of the memory, where Nurix declared her helplessness, Minerva felt the heartbreak. The Matron was her sister's mentor and a great friend to the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and just by hearing those words, being uttered with so much raw emotion, caused a near physical pain to convulse through Minerva's body.

Poppy ended the memory soon after that, and the green-eyed witch willingly extracted herself, bringing her mind back to the physical plane.

"Sweet Merlin..." she breathed while multiple thoughts raced through her mind, so many that she had to steady herself for a moment in fear of collapsing.

"Are you alright, Min?"

"Just give a minute, I need to think."

Minerva began pacing, running the conversation through her head again and again, picking apart the words, phrases and adding the emotion into the equation. But every time she tried to make a guess, she'd come across the same thing. It wasn't just her daughter that Isobel has pushed away, it was Galatea, and it seemed to cause the same emotional distraught which Minerva was currently faced with. The question was, why? What could possibly be so bloody important that her mother was cutting off two important people in her life and keep her daughter in the dark about it?

It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense.

"Other than the fact that Galatea helped Màthair with- what I assume to be -several important things, this unfortunately only just confirms what we already know."

"Which is still absolutely nothing."

"Precisely." Both witches sighed inwardly and a silence shrouded them. It wasn't awkward, just unknown, as the day neared an end and both were becoming tired from the events of the past twenty four hours. The green-eyed witch, however, was determined to break the silence with a simple question. "You still think retrieving my memories is a bad idea?"

Poppy sighed. "If it wasn't for the fact that Mikail is possibly part of the Untergang, I wouldn't have a problem with it, Min, truly."

Minerva nodded. "I understand."

"But you don't agree."

"No. I have to figure this out, Poppy. It'll drive me mad if I don't." To her surprise, her sister nodded, although admittedly it was slow and reluctant. There was no stopping Minerva and the hazel-eyed witch knew it. She'd only feel worse about the situation if she continued to rally against her sister. She simply had to accept it.

"Alright then, but don't expect me to be nice to Mikail."

The green-eyed witch flashed a smirk. "I think you'll be the first witch to out right display disapproval towards him for no apparent reason. Who knows, it might do him some good."

Poppy rolled her eyes and chuckled. "I better get back to Helena."

"How is Madam Nurix by the way?"

The healer's shoulders lowered with a near defeat as she shook her head solemnly. "This whole ordeal has her stressed, but she's dealing with it, as she always does. I keep trying to get her to sit down and take a breather though. This week has been very hard on her nerves." Poppy raised a brow. "Why do you ask?"

"I saw her coming from Galatea's room. She was rather upset, and then Màthair emotionally attacks her..."

"Well, I don't blame her, to almost lose a friend..." Poppy grew silent again and the green-eyed Gryffindor gently embraced her sister. She complied and wrapped her arms around her mutually.

"You're not going to lose me." Minerva's voice echoed with confidence that wasn't entirely shared.

"You don't know that," she whispered, holding back tears. "You don't know if the Untergang will piece together who you are to them, if they'll take you... if they'll kill you..."

"Poppy-"

"You don't know, Min!" the healer looked away as a single drop slid down her cheek. She wiped it away and exhaled a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, you don't need to hear this from me. I imagine Merrythought has already given you a speech."

"She did, but that doesn't mean you can't give me the same."

The medi-witch shook her head, not sure how exactly to take that. "I really should go now, Helena will begin to worry what I've been doing."

Minerva looked at the clock, it was half-past five. "I should get going as well, the Library closes at six."

"You got your permission, didn't you?"

The green-eyed witch nodded then changed topic. "Professor Slughorn was contacted by Màthair today. Toby delivered him a letter."

Poppy snorted in disgust. "So, if she can't have her way with Helena or Merrythought, she contacts Slughorn..." Poppy shook her head in dismay. "Should we inform them?"

"I- I don't know." Minerva exhaled, bringing her mind into focus as she weighed the possibilities around in her head. "Maybe just Madam Nurix, considering how much she despises Màthair. If you get the chance, tell her, but otherwise I don't think it's a big deal."

The apprentice healer nodded, then began to walk out.

"Hey, Poppy?" The witch turned around. "Good luck."

"I should be telling you that."

* * *

><p>There were far more books than she could have imagined. In total, there were nearly twenty between Occlumency and Legilimency, not including the two on memory tamperings. When she brought them to Sir Shanks he eyed her curiously, but then laughed in amusement.<p>

"You've always been one of my heavy readers," he said, as he waved his wand over the books. Instantly, their names were written down on a long scroll of parchment which listed what books were checked out by whom and the date. With permission, Minerva shrank all but one in order to fit them into her bag- she kept that one around her arm so that it looked as if she had brought at least one out with her. It would just seem strange otherwise, or so she thought.

Thankfully, there was hardly anyone in the common room as most students were outside, enjoying the wonderful warm weather. Mikail was there, attempting to write an essay, however, Mico continued to bat at his quill and ended up accidentally spilling the ink, splashing dense black liquid all over the pair. For a moment, Minerva worried if the wizard might throw the poor creature as he held the cat up so that he was level with his eyes, but then he burst into laughter as he took out his wand and syphoned away the ink- first from Mico, then himself. Minerva smiled.

"Having fun are we?"

He looked up, his tawny eyes sparkling with amusement as the blue-eyed feline squirmed from his grasp. Mikail let go, and Mico trilled a song-like mew as he bounded over to his mistress. The witch let her book float to the table Mikail was at as she picked up her feline companion, nuzzled her nose against his, then gave the animal a quick peck as he immediately curled up in her arms and started purring.

"Only a little bit. That little koshka vould not stop his onslaught on my quill."

"Koshka?"

"It means _'cat'_, sorry, old habits die hard. I have a koshka at home but I vas unsure how he vould like it here so I left him vith my parents."

Minerva smiled softly. "Feel free to play with him anytime you like, I don't get to do it often enough because I'm so bloody busy all the time."

"He's a good fella, though he doesn't know vhen it is time for vork and not play." Mikail narrowed his eyes at the creature. Mico blinked a few times then looked up at his mistress in innocence.

"You're not a bad boy, are you?" His purr suddenly became very loud as he twitched his whiskers. The message was so clearly obvious. "I didn't think so."

Mikail threw his hands up in mock surrender. "I give up."

The witch kissed the feline again, then lay him on her lap after she sat down on the other side of the table. He fell asleep not too long after that, typical cat.

"Now, where were we?" Minerva prompted.

"Your book that you brought back from the library; vhich begs me to ask, does Hog_v_arts really only have just _one_ on memory tamperings?"

The dark haired witch smirked a bit mischievously. "That's only what you see. I had to shrink twenty-one of them in total."

The wizard whistled in astonishment. "I vould not have guessed you had so many, especially considering how Legilimency is condemned here."

"That's because they're all in the restricted section."

"How did you get access, by the way? If you don't mind me asking..."

She shrugged. "Does it matter?" she asked as she levitated the small books out onto the table wandlessly. She couldn't tell him that it was Professor Dumbledore, he'd ask why he gave her clearance then, and she'd have to tell him that he was helping her with a project, which could then lead towards him possibly suspecting that she was receiving private lessons. This was, of course, all surrounding the possibility that he was the enemy.

"I suppose not."

"Alright then." She waved her hand and the small books became giant textbooks. Mikail's eyes widened and mouth parted agape. "I'm not sure if any of the Legilimency ones will have much on memory tampering, so we'll have to flip through them. There are two that are solely designated to it, but it's basic theory, logic and how it's done, not how to undo it." The witch handed the mentioned books to the still rather stunned wizard, her smirk broadened. "Yes?"

"Is this usual for you to check out this many books at once, by any chance?"

"This is what I would call _'a bit of light reading'_."

He shook his head, muttering something in Russian that made him chuckle, then he added, "You realize this is going to take about a week or two, yes?"

Minerva shrugged then picked up her Occlumency book that she had previously held in her arms. "For you maybe. Give me four days and I'll get through what you haven't by then."

He shook his head with a chuckle then clicked his tongue. "Minerva, you are an extraordinary vitch."

They read for nearly three hours straight without much interruption, even from Rolanda and Augusta who were giggling about something or other- probably something about Kevin and Xavier if Minerva had one guess. They said a simple _'hello'_ then went back up to the dormitory, continuing their conversation.

It was when Poppy came into the room that the green-eyed witch had to put her second book down.

"Hello, Poppy," Mikail said with a friendly smile.

The witch simply threw him a glare then fled upstairs. The dark haired Gryffindor sighed, grudgingly plopped Mico off her lap, then stood up.

"I better get some sleep, and so should you."

"I quite agree," he said quietly, still clearly puzzled by the apprentice healer's response. "Ah, Minerva, have I done something to offend her?"

"Who, Poppy?" she frowned slightly, unsure how to answer that. "Let's just say that she doesn't trust easily."

**September 10th, 1942:**

Professor Dumbledore wasn't entirely sure when he realised that Minerva McGonagall was just outside his classroom, looking out upon the Courtyard in silence and solitude, but when he did concern rose within his mind as it dawned upon him that they had never actually talked about the revelation regarding her memories. These past four days had been near an absolute nightmare- make that five -with his worry over Professor Merrythought, who was now up and teaching, or so he heard. He had yet to stop by for a visit.

The Chamber of Secrets 'awakening' had stirred up a political storm within the Governors. He was half tempted to hex Armando for not handling the situation as he advised. He told the Headmaster time and time again that it should be handled with discrete caution, otherwise there would be hysteria like what inevitably happened after Armando's 'announcement'. Oh, and not to mention the fact that the Untergang had attacked his colleague _and_ they were searching for his student, who just so happened to be his protege no less- and sadly -something of a 'project' to him.

Either way, this whole mess had landed him squarely in London at the Ministry- in Armando's place -for three days, and had not since then been able to talk to the young woman. He wondered how she was coping with her own turmoil.

Albus got up from his desk, leaving the heavy pile of Ministry papers behind him, and slowly walked over to the dark haired Gryffindor Prefect. The wizard could tell that she was lost in thought- much like he would become sometimes -from the sheer fact that she did not turn her head towards him or show any acknowledgement that he was even there. Thoughts arose, and they weren't entirely pleasant. Flashes of that little girl in the memory, screaming from the tiny glass shards grinding into her skin echoed in his mind again, making him cringe. He didn't know if any part of that memory was true, but it didn't matter. That scream would stay in his mind for a long time now- if he was lucky, maybe only half a year, or two.

The wizard knew Miss McGonagall wasn't that little helpless girl anymore. She was a young woman- for better or worse -yet, the fact remained that she was still just as helpless within this unknown field. It didn't take a Seer to point out that his prized student was suffering internally, nor the fact that she was deeply hiding this fact from everyone around her. Everyone that was, except Albus Dumbledore. He wasn't entirely sure if this was because he already knew about the tamperings, or that she frankly couldn't hide things very well from him. Either way, he was particularly glad that he knew. It didn't take much for a person to be sent over the edge, driven into madness by the idea that their memories were false.

The thought of that alone made his heart lurch painfully- whether or not it was because she was the key to stopping the war, and losing her would be a waste of everything that he had trained her for; or because he was simply growing attached to the young woman was uncertain. There were a lot of guessing being done within his mind these days- more than usual. He always had at least two possible explanations for just about everything, but this was getting a little extreme.

The wizard was nearly behind the young woman by now and it was concerning that she still had yet to acknowledge him. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Miss McGonagall?"

She spun around with a sharp gasp of surprise, her hand on her chest and her emerald eyes wide.

"Professor!-" she swallowed, closed her eyes, and within moments her shock was controlled. Part of him was really starting to dislike that ability of hers, but he wasn't exactly sure why it bothered him so. Maybe it was the fact that Isobel was so utterly talented at it- and the last thing he wanted to see was her pretty green eyes so emotionally dead like her mother's.

"Forgive me, my dear, I didn't mean to startle you."

The witch shook her head. "No, no, you're fine, Professor. I should have realized you were here- actually, I should have realized you were in the classroom..." her eyes narrowed and she grew silent again. Dumbledore was about to speak again when she finally snapped out of her thoughts and she whispered, "I had originally come here to talk with you, Sir. We never did get a chance to talk about..._ that _night."

"About your memories being tampered with, or the fact that you managed to stall me for an astounding forty-five seconds?"

"Er-" she looked away from him, and Albus immediately understood, Miss McGonagall wasn't entirely keen on talking about the first particular achievement. There was hurt in her eyes- although he would not be surprised if no one but himself could see it. "Just Occlumency, Sir."

"Minerva, are you all right?" He didn't hold back her name, he probably should have, but alas, he didn't. She glanced at him once again, peering into his twinkling, concerned blue eyes. "Memory tampering isn't something that is easy to deal with."

No, it wasn't easy, not even for the green-eyed witch. Then again, her life hadn't been easy to _'deal with'_, but she'd managed thus far, so why couldn't she now?

"I- I'm dealing with it, Professor-"

"Have you slept much these past few nights, my dear?"

The witch closed her eyes. No, she had not slept, she had not slept at all. Every time that her mind would get close to drifting off- the tampered memory would begin to replay itself, and if she were honest, it was beginning to haunt her. She had to get it to stop soon, and hopefully with the new books and Mikail's help, she could finally sleep.

"No. I can not, the memory simply will not leave me alone."

"It'll go away with time, my dear. Your mind is trying to sort out where it belongs- or_ if _it belongs…"

The witch inhaled sharply, her eyes narrowed and drifted from focus. "Right, of course."

"Minerva," the wizard spoke softly. She looked up at him again, her heartbeat increasing slightly at the sound of him saying her name. "If the Chamber of Secrets was not open, I would have the time to help you through this; finding your true memories, if that is even possible.."

His words, the sincerity behind them, shocked her. It shouldn't have, she reasoned. Professor Dumbledore had said before that he'd do anything to help her- but that was about her lessons and the war, not on a personal level... _or was it?_

"Y-you... you would risk being sacked for the sake of _memories?"_

The wizard nodded- knowing full well that it was more specifically due to the fact they were _her _memories, but that he would keep to himself -then he smiled softly. "I've already broken enough rules with our lessons together, my dear." He paused, his eyes narrowed. "The fact of the matter is, I'm worried about how you're coping with this- I will keep your secret, you needn't worry about that."

"I never was, Sir. I trust you."

Albus should have felt honoured to have her trust, but for some reason it felt more like a burden and he wasn't sure why. He changed the subject to prevent himself from further pondering this at the moment. "How much exactly did Professor Merrythought explain the situation to you?"

"She informed me that the Untergang is searching for the witch or wizard whom they believe will end the war."

"And did she tell you who that person is?"

"Me."

"Then you know why I am worried."

Minerva shook her head with a sad smile on her lips. "Sir, forgive me for saying this, but you're too busy to worry about anyone but yourself. Don't think I haven't realized just how much the Chamber's opening alone has dramatically affected your work load- and sleep for that matter." She pursed her lips. "Not only that, but if the culprit continues to attack, it'll only get worse as hysteria begins to take over."

Professor Dumbledore smiled softly. "While your concern is well placed, my dear, I can handle myself."

She wanted to ask him, _'but for how long, and at what cost to you?'_, however, she had to remind herself that she was just another student and no matter how well she knew him, or how much she cared for him, that fact wouldn't change for another two years. It wouldn't do well to continue this conversation for either of them.

"Now, about your Occlumency lessons. Your mental barriers are far advanced regarding your talent." He waved for her to follow him into his office.

"Do you think it might be due to my màthair tempering with my mind?"

He smiled at her as she opened the door. "That is exactly what I think."

They made their way over to a very old bookshelf that had never held any interest to Minerva. The wizard tapped it twice, muttered a few words, then suddenly it expanded in height by nearly five feet and the books changed. Minerva gazed upon them with pure awe and an intellectual hunger. She wanted so desperately to grab them all and lock herself in a secluded room so she could devour them. The professor seemed to sense her desire and chuckled as he turned around, his eyes twinkling. With a wave of his hand, several books were Summoned onto his desk.

"Here, these are all about tamperings, along with a a few books on Occlumency and Legilimency which Hogwarts does not allow within the Library- not even in the restricted section."

The witch began to immediately flip through the book labeled _'Deciphering Memory Tampering'_. She could hardly believe her eyes. This was what she and Mikail needed, what had been missing from the restricted section. A piece of parchment with ink scribblings, diagrams and symbols covered it stuck out and she uncovered it from the book's pages to study it.

"Ah, and they also include some of my personal theories, if you're interested."

Minerva could feel her heart swell with amazement and gratitude. She was going to find her lost memories, she could feel it. The witch looked at her professor with a pure happiness that most people would have down-right teared up from. Had it been proper, she would have embraced him and kissed his cheek. But it wasn't, and despite her being a Gryffindor she was still not brave enough to cross that threshold- even with her already close relationship with Professor Dumbledore.

"I-I don't know what to say. Thank you, this means a great deal to me."

"I do hope they can give you some peace of sorts, my dear. You have much in store for you, I would hate to see you throw it away because of this revelation."

She smiled. "I will be alright, Professor. I'll get through this mess and come back stronger than I ever was before."

The wizard didn't answer her, he simply changed the subject; Minerva wasn't sure what to make of that.

"We shall start your lessons tomorrow after Animagus Studies."

She nodded her head, quite thankful that she had specifically made sure Rolanda avoided calling Quidditch practice on those days.

"I'll see you then, Sir." The dark haired witch began to take her leave when something stopped her a few paces down. She could feel an uneasy feeling resonating from the wizard, distant and slowly becoming lost. She turned around and was not surprised to see Professor Dumbledore's deep sapphire eyes partially glazed over with conflict and worry. It pained her to see him become so lost in thought, his eyes losing their twinkle slowly as he drifted from reality.

"Professor?"

He blinked once or twice, then looked at her. "Hmm?"

His twinkle returned and she flashed a smile- a sad one underneath the layers.

"Please, don't worry about me."

Little did she know that it was near impossible for him not to. With the Untergang indirectly searching for her, he couldn't help but wonder just how ready she was to face them if such a time came. She was good, and would be a the near perfect agent on the battlefield once she delved further into her obvious talent for Occlumency.

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><p><strong>Oh Dumbles, Dumbles... sort it out man! You are driving me crazy!<br>~LinK**


	25. Unexpected Gifts

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

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><p><strong>AN:**

**~Good News: **I'm done with giant papers for the rest of this school year! Woo! May 15th seems to be taking it's sweet time, taunting me... but like a few characters are taunting you all ;)

**~All of your patience **through this past month has been wonderful, thank you! The same goes for Em and Spin, you ladies are amazing; putting up with 7-11k length chapters nearly every week.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24 - Unexpected Gifts<strong>

**September 11th 1942:**

"_It's good to have you back, Professor."_

"_Professor, it's good to see you again."_

"_-very glad you're alright-"_

"_What ever happened?"_

"_Did you really fight the Untergang?"_

"_Tell us all about it!"_

Professor Merrythought was awfully glad that her first year class was over and done with. Children will be children, and curious as they come. She couldn't be mad at them for their questions, but nevertheless, she was very tired of hearing the same bombardment from her students for the second day in a row. Yesterday had been her first full day 'back', although it should have been on the ninth, she reasoned. Helena had been persistent about her resting to full health for another day, and Galatea wasn't going to protest anything which the Matron said about her health. The woman had enough stress as it was, and knowing that she had not exactly helped in that regard wasn't exactly something the elder witch was very proud of.

Helena had informed her about Poppy overhearing the conversation between herself and Isobel, even informing her that Slughorn was in contact with Mrs McGonagall. Galatea wasn't worried, though. Horace, bless his soul, could be _very _dense sometimes. He had no idea that the Untergang was after Minerva. None of the Staff did, except for those involved yesterday- and of course, the Headmaster -which all-in-all, was perfect. Simply_ perfect._

The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor looked at the clock and smiled. Minerva would be here soon; they had talked last night, coming to an agreement of this time to simply meet and talk. There were days when Galatea would wake up and feel the need to pinch herself in the morning after a conversation with the girl through their mirrors. The woman honestly could not believe she had the opportunity to rekindle a relationship with Minerva, to take the love she had all along, to redefine it into something that made them both happy, and she'd be damned if she abandoned that love again- no matter how intolerable Isobel became.

While it had been many years ago, Galatea had made a personal vow to help and protect the young Gryffindor- that included preserving the secrecy regarding the lone event that she and Isobel agreed should be kept-constantly weighed on her mind. Part of her wished that she had never told the girl's mother, and that eventually the anguished burden would die with her. If only it was that simple. Galatea was no fool, she knew Minerva was a smart young woman and was slowly gleaning bits of information to pique her curiosity. She had, and would continue still, to ask questions; ones that the elder witch simply could _not_ answer.

There was a small creak from the door that announced a visitor, yet, when the she looked towards the entrance she didn't see the Gryffindor witch she had been expecting. Instead, a small, round, grey feline face popped into the room. The cat's large emerald eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. She looked up at the woman, blinked a smile, then waltzed her way in. Galatea didn't need to guess who it was, she had memorized this particular cat since the moment she laid eyes on it years ago. It hadn't been too difficult, mind you, Minerva's feline form was very beautiful. Her tabby markings were intricate, weaving a pattern almost as complicated as the girl's family.

When the Animagus neared the professor's desk, she smoothly transformed back.

"Good evening, Professor." The green-eyed witch smiled. The elder witch nodded in return, nonchalantly waving her hand to close the classroom door before she embraced the young woman. Galatea took a moment, purely to thank whatever Gods which were protecting the girl in her arms. There had been so many incidents where such a simple gesture might have never been possible. She'd been thinking about that a lot lately.

Galatea kissed the top of Minerva's head. The young witch was almost as tall as she by now, come next year she might be the same height, if not taller. It was just another reminder of how little Galatea had been involved in the girl's life.

"Good evening, child." Her crystal blue eyes sparkled without any sign of her previous injuries, showing of perfect health despite her age or previous battles.

"Is everything alright?"

The elder witch smirked. She should have known Minerva would have picked up on her thoughts. It was something Isobel had always been able to do.

"Oh yes, I was just thinking about how much you have grown since you first entered these halls."

Minerva rolled her eyes, a light blush appearing on her cheeks; she still wasn't used to this, the mother-like attention. Sometimes she'd wake up and think it was all a dream, that Galatea wasn't in her life at all. Their relationship had started simply as mentor and pupil, except now it was something closer to grandmother and granddaughter- not that Minerva was complaining. She liked it, but granted, she didn't understand as of why the woman cared so much when Isobel was continuing to push her away. Maybe that was it, though; the connection, the reason they were able to bond so well with each other. The price of her mother's emotional abandonment brought them together. Or maybe it was a strategic move on Galatea's part? But then again, love doesn't ask why, it just happens, right? Whatever her reasons where, it didn't entirely matter. She loved the woman and there was nothing that either of them could say, or do, to change that.

"Well, I should hope so. I _was_ only eleven, almost twelve actually."

The elder witch chuckled. "You have a point. Come, we should talk."

They walked into the professor's office. It was set up similar to an old Edinburgh home- something Minerva always enjoyed -and while similar to the Manor, it was without the dreadful, eerie, prison feel.

"I seem to remember you wanting to learn how to conduct a Patronus message and that I agreed to teach you not only that, but a few other things as well." Galatea couldn't help but notice the sparkle in Minerva's green eyes at the mention of resuming lessons together once more. "Now, I know you are busy, and that the Time-Turner can be a bit of a menace, which is why I shall only be conducting these lessons every so often. Maybe every two weeks, or so."

They could have easily talked about this over the mirror, but it gave them an excuse to see each other and to talk one-on-one, and not to mention a chance for them to seek some sort of closure from last week's ordeal.

Minerva nodded her approval. "What date suits you best?"

"I was thinking sometime next week, to allow me a grace period to settle in again. Next Thursday at eight perhaps? It should be near dark around that time, perfect for you to sneak around undetected."

The young witch could not help but chuckle, although when her professor gave her a puzzled look, she laughed.

"What, may I ask, do you find so amusing, child?"

"The irony of this! You, the esteemed, strict, ex-Auror, Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and Head of Ravenclaw House, is giving a student permission to sneak around the castle at night!"

The elder witch rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Oh please, it is not as if it's after curfew."

"You still can't deny the irony of it all," she said, still wearing a very amused grin. Galatea huffed, then pursed her lips, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to betray her. It didn't work very well.

"Oh, I give up." The woman chuckled as her smile broke free, then wrapped her arms around the young woman while pulling both of them down to sit on the sofa. "Yes, yes, it _is_ ironic. Quite ironic indeed!"

Minerva giggled. "I wonder, what would your all students think if they got wind of this?"

The elder witch's eyes widened, the humor still evident. "You would not dare..."

"Maybe, maybe not." The younger witch flashed a wickedly mischievous smile.

"Oh, Goodness, what have I done? I think I might have brought out a Slytherin side in you which the Sorting Hat never saw!" Galatea chuckled softly once more, then tapped the Gryffindor on the nose. "Who would have thought? After forty-two years of earning the title of 'strictest professor', it could all be ruined by _the_ Miss Minerva Margaret McGonagall," she tapped the girl on the nose, "who is by far the most intellectual, caring, wonderful and incredibly talented young witch I have _ever _had the pleasure of knowing, as well as training."

The woman kissed Minerva's forehead, once more truly at peace with her life- well, at least regarding her precious green-eyed Gryffindor, who was simply content with being in the arms of her beloved professor.

"You really mean that?"

It wasn't really a question, more like an indication of the younger witch's emotional doubt towards relationships as a whole, and it had been spoken so quietly that Galatea almost thought Minerva hadn't said anything. It didn't keep the shock from her face from appearing any less, however.

"Of course I do, darling. Why ever would you think otherwise?" The moment the elder witch said those words, she regretted them, and sighed. Gently, she tilted the girl's chin up, forcing her to meet her gaze, then smiled sadly. "I meant every word that I said, every single one. You are _so_ very special, dear child, and in so many ways, but the one that matters most is that you are special to me. Never forget that, Minerva, _never."_

She squeezed the Gryffindor's hand with a smile, one that the girl returned, erasing most of the her doubts- although it was likely that a few questions still lingered. Minerva curled back against the woman and breathed deeply, letting the stress roll off her in waves. She smelled the barest hint of peppermint mixed within Galatea's usual scent that she hadn't noticed before, but it dawned upon her that it had always been there. She thought it was funny that, as she continued to trust and relax around Galatea, she kept picking up little bits of personality that were more intriguing than the ones that came before.

_Why peppermint?_ she mused as she relaxed, simply enjoying the comfort which it brought. Aside from that tainted memory, which still hung in a cloud of questionable truth, Minerva couldn't remember Isobel ever doing such a thing with her.

"I like this," the younger witch said softly, still wearing a smile. Her green eyes sparkled as she looked into the burning fire, feeling its heat warming her as well as Galatea. It was like a blanket of comfort, safety and peace; if she was in her tabby form, she'd have purred and very loudly at that.

"I quite agree." The woman rested her chin on top of Minerva's dark hair for a moment or two in silence before she had to break it. "Darling?"

"Hmm?"

"Professor Dumbledore brought up something with me this morning. With the Untergang snooping around, it may be best that you stay here over the holidays. I know it is several weeks away, and you need not be worrying about it yet, but I think it is something that you should be aware of." When no answer came after moment or two, she prompted. "Minerva?"

"You're right. It'd be for the best, for their safety as well as my own."

_And my sanity..._

Minerva almost shuddered at the thought of what she would do if she saw her mother. She'd be seventeen over this year's Christmas holidays, the legal age to use magic. If something happened- if her mother if her mother said or did the wrong thing, if Minerva accidentally slipped about her knowledge of the false memories in the heat of an argument -things might take a turn for the worse, even with her restraint. She was angry at Isobel for hiding everything; angry that the woman was hurting Galatea by pushing her away; angry that she wasn't the mother Minerva needed; and she was absolutely furious that Isobel had tampered with her memories. If she were being truly honest with herself, she was still a little hurt by the fact that her own mother had accepted Tradisi's plan to _'get rid'_ of her- even if she never _did_ carry it out. There was also that touch of sadness, the emptiness that caused her heart to throb in pain, although she was unsure why she felt like that anymore. The woman had hardly done anything for her anyway.

"Besides," she continued, "I could spend some time with you over the holidays- if you don't mind, that is."

"Darling, how could I ever stop you? Just keep in mind that while I am on holiday, a Professor here- especially as the Head of House -sometimes must deal with matters, mainly regarding students, but nonetheless they must be dealt with."

"I understand."

"Good." The woman patted her hand.

"Oh!" Minerva suddenly sat up. "I completely forgot! With everything else on my mind as of late I didn't even think..." Galatea was about to question the girl but stopped when she pulled out her fir wand and waved it, wordlessly conjuring a small box. "I was in Hogsmeade three days ago visiting Cayden, when I realized it would be your birthday on the ninth-"

"Minerva, you did not need to get me anything."

The green-eyed witch smiled softly as she grabbed the box. "I know, but I wanted to. Your attack from the Untergang made me realize just how much you mean to me, that I'd be if I lost you, and I couldn't get that out of my head."

At a loss for words, and feeling tears beginning to form within her eyes, the elder witch gently took the present. She opened it, then gently took out a long silver chain with a small heart in the center, decorated with several Celtic knots and a small hinge on the side indicating a locket. With a small glance at the girl's smile, the elder witch opened it. Inside held two pictures of the Gryffindor; one when she was young, no more than six, with her dark hair in curls and her emerald eyes sparkling with innocence; while the other was of the rather brilliant, bright and courageous witch she was today.

Galatea smiled. It was the only thing she could do to prevent tears from forming in her pale blue eyes. She could have said something- she _wanted _to say something, more like it -but her fear that the incredibly smart young witch would draw upon the event which- even now -continued to conflict the woman. In her mind, the Minerva could not know, if only because the elder witch wasn't prepared for her to know yet. It took her over twenty years to even tell Isobel of what she had done- or almost, that is, pertaining to the woman.

"Help me put it on?" she whispered, looking into the girl's beautiful green eyes, forcing herself not to draw upon the memory by keeping her mind in the present. The younger witch beamed at the gesture and was on her feet in an instant.

"I kept wondering what in Merlin's name to get you. I was half tempted to ask Professor Dumbledore or Madam Nurix, but then Cayden suggested _Gem-lorious Pendants_ and this idea just clicked."

"Well, it's beautiful, darling, and I shall wear it everyday."

"Oh, and I already charmed it so that only you can view it- in case something happens and it gets into the wrong hands. I know how you are about secrecy."

Galatea turned around, facing Minerva with a look of partial surprise. "You performed the Concealment charm?"

"Yes, I did it wandlessly and wordlessly."

The woman blinked, nearly stunned. She could do wordless _or _wandless, but never both at the same time. "Merlin's beard, and how long did it take you to accomplish that?"

"Um..." the girl peered into the fire. "Three attempts. My first was with my wand and incantation. I worked my way up from there."

To Minerva's surprise, Galatea laughed, and as far as she could remember, the green-eyed witch had never heard the woman laugh before. Chuckle yes, and maybe a small one here and there, but never outright laughter.

"Oh, my dear, I think you shall pick up on our minor lessons extremely quickly then. Remind me to conduct them on highly advanced and difficult magic, spells not taught here simply for the fact that they are too difficult for the majority of students. In the long-run it should be useful."

"Like the Impeturbable charm? I've always wanted to learn that. Oh, and what about the Gashing curse? The Disillusionment Charm? The counter-spell of-"

"All in good time, darling, I promise." The woman's eyes gleamed with blissful amusement. "You are just as bad as Professor Dumbledore, you know? The moment there is a new spell discovered, he _must_ master it." She kissed Minerva's forehead. "Now, as much as I would love for you to stay with me forever, I believe Animagus Studies starts soon."

"And after that, Occlumency."

"Ah, yes. Tell me, has Professor Dumbledore tested you yet?"

Minerva nodded her head, careful not to betray her thoughts on the event. "He said I had a talent."

"I knew you would."

She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Your astral ability, child. I take it Isobel never explained it?"

"How do you know of astrals?"

"Isobel has the ability, dear." Galatea bit her tongue after that, holding back a repulsive addition. Her crystal blue eyes narrowed for a moment, forcing back a memory she'd rather not remember at this current moment, and she continued speaking to better her efforts. "While your astral is not _'awake'_ per se, it acts as a secondary mental defence mechanism when you are attacked- specifically against Legilimency and Glimpsing. It is an extraordinarily useful gift, if I do say so myself. How long did you stall him?"

Minerva narrowed her eyes. "Forty-five seconds."

The elder witch nearly dropped her jaw in shock. "Goodness, and against a master for the first time! Yes, I _dare_ say advancing will not be a problem for you at all. Well, off you get, and thank you for the locket."

The green-eyed witch beamed, happy beyond words that her beloved mentor adored her present, then turned around to take her leave.

Galatea watched the young woman walk away with a complexity of emotions as the former pang in her heart began to overwhelm her again. Her long fingers curled around the locket as memories began to creep into her thoughts once more. _Damn it all, you old witch, just say it! With all the events of this year, who knows what will transpire? You might never get the chance._

"M-Minerva?" she called, silently cursing her voice for cracking. The Gryffindor turned on her heel, almost as if she didn't expect there to be another word between them. Her emerald eyes sparkled- those same eyes that had been in these very rooms thirteen years ago.

"I..." Her voice failed her and she bit her tongue. It wasn't the time. _Will it ever be, though?_ she thought angrily at herself. "Please, do try to focus on advancing in your lessons with Dumbledore, despite your immense talent. I will be able to relax a bit more knowing you can defend your mind against Legilimency attacks."

Thankfully, the young witch didn't seem to be disappointed by the lack of emotional words. Maybe she just didn't expect them, having lived most of her life deprived of motherly affection. _Damn it, Izzy..._

"I have every intention to, Galatea. I'd tell you to stop worrying, except I know you won't listen to me." She flashed a small smile. "I'll talk to you later, tonight perhaps?"

The woman's brows nearly shot up and her heartbeat quickened its pace for a brief second at the mention of 'tonight'. She'd almost forgotten. "Ah, no, I have an _appointment."_

The Gryffindor noted the slight tone change on the last word and crossed her arms. "I hope it's not regarding the war, Untergang, or myself."

The elder witch shook her head, her eyes gleaming with what Minerva considered to be a rather peculiar expression, almost excitement. "Nothing of the sort, my dear, that I can most _certainly_ promise you."

While being abruptly bewildered by her beloved professor's words, the young woman gave up trying to guess what it was about, and without further delay made her way down to the Transfiguration Department. Passing the lavatory on the fourth floor, however, she was halted by a young Hufflepuff boy.

"Prefect!" he called after her, just as he grabbed her sleeve. He was definitely a first year. "Miss Prefect, please help!"

"Whatever's the matter?"

"There's a boy in the bathroom, he won't stop vomiting!"

Minerva grimaced, then immediately took off with the young boy. She could almost smell the sickening revulsion when she got near the room. The poor lad was surrounded by students who apparently had _nothing_ better to do than stand there and watch a third year Hufflepuff puke.

"Move!" she commanded, glaring at each of them with severe disappointment as she made her way towards the sick 'attraction'. Well, what the younger Hufflepuff said had not been an understatement, the lad simply could not stop vomiting, and Minerva had to look away for a moment to keep herself from being sick as well. This was a bloody prank.

_Poppy, you might want to get to the lavatory on the fourth floor. Someone's been feed 'Endless Vomit'._

_Sweet Merlin, it's not poor Travis Rowan is it? A third year Hufflepuff?_

_Yes, I think it's him._

_Not again! Oh, the poor boy, I shall be there in a few._

The dark haired witch sighed. There was nothing more she could do for the boy except catch the cruel witch or wizard responsible.

"Would _someone_ care to explain this?" she barked at the crowd. Suddenly she saw a small, pudgy girl with a dreadful pink bow in her curly mousy brown hair almost managing to sneak away. A low, cat-like growl almost escaped from her throat. It was blatantly obvious who the culprit was.

"Miss Umbridge," the sly girl froze, "I take it that, because you are leaving, that you have _nothing_ to do with this?"

The Slytherin witch swiftly turned around, keeping her hands behind her back rather suspiciously. "Ah, yes, Miss McGonagall, absolutely _nothing."_

The Prefect took a few steps forward, using her height to her advantage. "So, if I say _'Accio Endless Vomit'_, nothing would jerk from your hands?"

"That would be unlawful search and-"

Minerva flicked her hand, and just as she predicted, a bulb like-vial from Umbridge's grasp. The crowd gasped and the young witch looked completely mortified.

"Only unlawful without reasonable suspicion, Miss Umbridge, and I dare say I have just that. If I were able I'd deduct thirty points from Slytherin, but since I am not, I'll assign you two nights of detention with Mr Pringle in the Forbidden Forest."

Minerva hardly had time to absorb just how furious the young witch was before Poppy sprang into the room.

"Scat! All of you, begone! This is no place for you to be!" the apprentice healer shouted. Now with two Prefects in the lavatory, the children finally left- except the frightfully red-cheeked Slytherin witch. "Miss Umbridge, did you not hear me? Scat!"

With a final death glare towards Minerva, Dolores eventually left, leaving the sound of the poor Hufflepuff continuously vomiting echoing around the bathroom.

"Oh Travis, when will you learn?" Poppy groaned. "Thank you, Min, I'll handle this from here."

* * *

><p><em>Finally,<em> Minerva entered the classroom, after rubbing her temples the entire way down the stairs until the skin underneath was very sore, that is. Thankfully, Professor Dumbledore was done giving his usual start of class lecture and was seated at his desk as the five Apprentices were reading their textbooks. Riddle looked up at her, his cold eyes peering into hers.

"Late again, _Minerva?"_ He had taken to using her first name over the last year, much to her displeasure. There were days that she wished she could give him a good hex of the bat-bogies for a month to reward his sly and devious behaviour. What made that feeling worse was how innocently he behaved around the professors. "That gives you a grand total of two tardies in your school career. I wonder, do you even have a feasible excuse this time?"

She smiled at him, not one of pleasure, mind you, but an insincere one. "Actually, Riddle, I do."

"And?"

"_And-_ if I were you, I'd put your nose back into your book where it belongs as you still have yet to pass the Right." She would sometimes flaunt that into the air, just for the pure fact that he would finally shut up after she said it. He loathed her for becoming an Animagus at the end of her third tear. He'd apparently been trying to pass the final steps for the past few years, yet he could never do it. Professor Dumbledore once hinted to her that Riddle simply didn't have the 'right mindset'- and Minerva couldn't agree more.

In an amazing show of self control, she watched as he kept face straight, even while she knew he seethed underneath his serene features. However, she was pretty sure that he glared at her when she made her way towards her professor.

"I apologize, Sir," the dark haired witch whispered, not wanting to disturb the other students more than she already had. "There was an incident that required my attention as a Prefect."

"No apology needed, my dear." Dumbledore spoke quietly. "The office is open for you."

With a thankful nod, Minerva made her way into the room and immediately decided to throw herself into her project so that she could forget the impending stress of the year. It had hardly started yet and she felt as if she'd been here for nearly six months.

Closing the door, the witch sighed but then smiled upon seeing a new book upon the Professor's desk with a note on the front. Minerva always found those notes to bring her relief- whether Dumbledore intended it or not. Gently, she plucked the note from the leather, then began to read as her smile broadened. She could always perfectly distinguish her professor's handwriting from anyone else's. He had a unique style to his letters; it was cursive, of course, but the fluidity of the strokes, the curves and curls at the ends made his writing almost like artwork to her. It was beautiful, admirable, and vastly different from her own angular style.

_Dear Miss McGonagall,_

_I came across a peculiar diary that I believe you shall find immensely fascinating, if I do say so myself. Inside contains the works of a Ms. I. M. Quizzel. Like the others, she went missing after meeting with the Merpeople- however, she met with the Sirens beforehand and what she discovered was... well, I'll let you find out for yourself._

_Good luck, and try not to worry about our lesson.  
><em>_Professor Dumbledore_

Minerva felt her heartbeat quicken as she hastily put the parchment down and open the journal. Over the past two years she'd been searching, discovering and collecting information on the Merpeople and the Sirens, and even with her professor's help, she couldn't find anything regarding the species' magic. Everyone knew that the Merpeople were vastly protective and secretive about it, and it would seem that they would kill anyone who tried to find out. The Sirens were peaceful, but never said anything except, _'you are not her'_. There were diaries filled with journal entries, notes about the scholar's previous leadings, most were trying discover if there was a link between the Sirens and Merpeople with Transfiguration. The correlation was there- they were the only two species that kept their ancient magic locked away and unused.

The dark haired witch found it all very fascinating. It could occupy her thoughts for hours on end. She couldn't help it. Not only was the subject vastly intriguing, but she felt an unusual connection with Transfiguration. There was a reason she advanced so quickly in her first year of Animagus Studies and completed the Right of Passage before the year had ended. The magic of the subject simply worked with her, did her bidding without question and flowed through her as if it belonged to her. She loved it.

Flipping through the entries, she devoured Quizzel's work. The witch was from Canada, and often referenced the differences between her homeland and Greece. Both countries seemed rather intriguing to Minerva, but she skimmed through those passages, forcing herself to deliberately search only for information regarding the woman's research. There were several mentions of what Minerva already knew about, and the ever present question of how the Wizarding World had learned Transfiguration. Quizzle was determined, she'd give her that. A half hour passed before she finally came upon the entry which described her experience with the Sirens. She nearly dropped the book in surprise. The woman had been able to see the species magic at work! According to her descriptions, it was exactly like Transfiguration except for the fact that it was far more advanced. It involved some sort of energy that the witch wasn't able to comprehend. She had never felt it before in her own spells. It apparently felt foreign, but at the same time perfect, less problematic than the method which the Wizarding World currently used.

The Sirens apparently sang a hymn-like song. According to Quizzel, it was familiar to the Canadian Sirens' own song, although in a higher octave. She suspected they were the same, however, like all the other scholars before her, when she asked about the song, they simply trilled _'you are not her'_ and fled back down into the ocean's abyss.

As to whom_ 'her'_ was, Minerva kept pondering the song the Siren in Loch Ness has sung to her. She could have sworn that she'd heard Fawkes singing the tune once or twice, but every time she got closer to the bird, he'd stop. She couldn't help but think that they might be related, and if so, then did that mean she'd be able to unlock the secrets of their magic? Excitement coursed through her veins at that thought, and what her professor would think if she _did_ manage to find the answer. For now she'd keep that thought to herself though, for it might appear to be a ludicrous idea to anyone else.

The door opened and Minerva felt a smile make its way onto her lips before she turned around to greet the man. "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."

The wizard returned her smile. "Good evening, Miss McGonagall, you seem to be in a light mood. Did you find anything useful in the diary, I wonder?"

"I did, Sir, it proved quite useful. It seems our theory regarding Ancient Transfiguration beginning with the Sirens and Merpeople is beginning to shine through."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I believe that is _your_ theory now, Miss McGonagall. You've taken great lengths, devoted two years of study to this topic, and found the correlation between the missing links of the species and the lone branch of magic."

"Yes, but it is you who introduced the idea of Magical Evolution to me. Without that I wouldn't be where I am today."

He waved her words away. "Nonsense, my dear. While it may have taken you a bit longer without my help, I have a feeling you would have come to the same conclusions on your own anyhow. You are incredibly smart, you would have found a way."

Minerva blushed lightly as she shook her head. There was no use arguing with the man. She closed the diary and Banished it to her dormitory.

"Have you been sleeping better?"

The witch smiled. Those little personal questions didn't catch her off guard anymore, nor did they make her cringe with embarrassment. She had simply grown used to his partial interest in her. In all honesty, she found it enjoyable and immensely refreshing.

"Last night I slept more soundly than I have in years, Professor. You were right, the memory finally left me alone. All I needed was time." Minerva paused, but then to avoid an slightly awkward silence, she added, "I've been reading the Legilimency and Occlumency books you provided."

"I had no doubt that you would." His eyes twinkled and Minerva found that she had to blink to prevent herself from staring into them. She wasn't sure what to make of that. "Now, before we begin, do you have any questions?"

"Yes, I do. The books weren't entirely clear on the matter, but is it possible that even with a breach, you have a limited control of what the attacker sees?"

"That is correct, which is why during our test I asked you to direct me towards harmless information. Depending on how strong your will is during a breach, you may stall your attacker. The most effective way is to keep your mind thinking different thoughts, quickly changing the topic, so that your attacker can not gain a foothold. Eventually, however, you will run out of memories to recall."

Minerva nodded her head. "Thank you, Professor. I believe I am ready then."

"Very well then. I will attempt to find the memory where you floated the Snitch around my office. If you manage to stall me from finding this memory after three minutes, I will stop. We will take a break, then have another go."

She noted a slight movement as his wand slid from what appeared to be a wrist holster and immediately closed her eyes, draining out her thoughts and emotions as the book had informed her. It wasn't terribly difficult, she was used to this basic process when calming her mind. When she opened her eyes, the witch made sure she didn't stare into her Professor's sapphire orbs. Instead, she looked slightly to the left towards the wall, then exhaled. The wizard started the countdown.

"One."

Minerva felt a strange sensation within her mind. It dulled her senses, made her head feel as if it was full of a dense fog. She reasoned that it must have been Avrenim merging with her Occlumency barriers.

"Two."

The witch inhaled, then blinked, refusing to let her heartbeat increase from anticipation of the impact. She exhaled.

"Three..." His wand flicked, no doubt emitting a Silencing charm around the room, then pointed it towards her. "_Legilimens!"_

This time she was ready for the initial, violent merge. While it still affected her body, gasping for air as her lungs convulsed, her mind remained consistently still. Last time her control had dissolved and Avrenim was there to shield her mind, this time, however, her astral wasn't needed _yet._ At that moment, she realized just how right Galatea was, astrals were a natural self defence.

Like before, she didn't have any sense of time. An hour could have passed and she wouldn't have even known, or it could have all be a few simple seconds. Yet, what Minerva _was_ aware about, was the spell picking and prodding, attacking her barriers, hissing words with a voice that didn't seem to belong to anyone. But she didn't give in, her mind stayed numb. A growing pressure began to grow in the back of her brain, almost like a headache but different. It was all encompassing and thumped uncomfortably as if it's sole purpose was to infuriate her. The witch could have sworn that she felt her body jerk and spasm, but she wasn't sure, and she wasn't about to ponder it- choosing instead to keep her focus on the invading force within her mind.

Finding no weak spot, the spell increased its pace and the violence evolved, ripping and clawing like a vicious animal assaulting its prey, trying to strip away the layers. It didn't last long, however, as it was suddenly brought to an abrupt halt. Minerva felt her attacker leave, ending the spell, but she waited for a few moments before allowing victorious joy creep into her senses as her mind returned to the physical plane.

Instead of standing, as she had been before the onslaught, the witch found herself kneeling on the ground, sweat beading across her forehead, and panting. Her heart was racing, the sound was almost deafening to her ears. If it wasn't for her enhanced hearing, she probably wouldn't have noticed her Professor breathing just as heavily. She briefly wondered if part of it was from the struggle of holding back what he was truly capable of. He _was_ a Master Legilimens and Occlumens after all.

Slowly, Minerva stood up, her breathing still struggling to return to normal.

"You have... improved tremendously," Dumbledore said, his breathing under more control than her's, then chuckled softly to himself. "I expected progress, Miss McGonagall, but not advancement on this scale. Six minutes." Her eyes widened. "I went over, I apologize. Time tends to slip. Legilimens have a better sense of the time one spends in a person's head when attacking, but still..."

The witch could sense a slight unease towards the mistake by the way his sapphire eyes respectively dodged her gaze. Had something similar happened in an ordinary class, she would imagine him never acting this way in front of her. But this was Legilimency, far beyond her normal lessons, and she imagined that this was particularly difficult on him- invading an innocent's mind, not to mention his student's.

"It's all right, Professor, really." She brushed the few stray locks of hair behind her ear. She'd fix it later, after her second attempt.

The wizard gently nodded his head, quite grateful for her maturity and understanding at this point. With a wave of his hand he summoned two of his favourite confections.

"Here," he floated the sweet to her palm. "It'll help you recover."

"The sugar or the lemon flavoring?" She was well aware that chocolate had healing properties, but was slightly skeptical as to the power of a lemon drop.

Professor Dumbledore chuckled and his eyes twinkled. "Both, but also neither."

Minerva rolled her eyes, shaking her head in amusement as she slipped the sweet into her mouth. "You're not secretly trying to get me addicted to these things, like Rola are you, Professor?"

He smirked. "Not at all."

"Or maybe trying to convert the Wizarding World, one lemon drop at a time?" she teased.

He raised his hands up in mock surrender and winked at her. "Alas, you have caught your professor in his mad schemings."

Minerva grinned. "Well, fear not, Professor Dumbledore, I shall not turn you in. There simply is not a punishment fitting enough for such a lemony crime."

The professor laughed, and she not laughed with him, she might have realized that hearing such a happy sound issuing from him was more addicting than the sweets.

**September 12th 1942:**

Mico awoke to the sound of his tummy rumbling. He opened his eyes and nearly growled at the sudden brightness before gradually blinking away the sun spots as he adjusted to the light. Raising his head ever so slightly, he realised that his mistress was still asleep. While he was pleased that she was finally starting to catch up on her much needed sleep, he wanted food. He was a cat, and by his ancestor's whiskers, he was going to get what he wanted without begging like a dog- if you don't consider the act of being all sweet, cuddly and purring very loudly, a form of persuasion, that is.

He flicked his short, stubby tail a few times as a deep, long yawn took over him. He stretched out his limbs gracefully, taking his time, then sat on his rump, plotting the best way to awake his mistress. Some might call this devilish, but others would call it genius. He settled for the latter- he was, after all, a cat. A furry, pristine, undeniably smart cat, even if he did say so himself.

Finally he decided that kneading was the best way to go, and if that didn't work, then he'd just move on to another tactic. Oh, he had perfected this art a thousand times, but he had a feeling his mistress would be rather hard to rouse this morning. It would seem that her fellow witches had thought the same, for they were nowhere to be found in the dormitory.

Mico sauntered over to his mistress, casually walking around her legs, then gently made his way on top of her stomach and up towards her chest. Flexing his paws, he began to knead, thinking about the taste of glorious food, savoring it, and the wonderful feeling of a full belly. He purred. He knew humans were particularly fond of such a sound, his own kind was too, but he always found it odd that another species appreciated the sound- not that he complained. It generally rewarded him with lots of nose kisses, ear scratches and tummy rubs. Oh, the life of a cat!

'_Wake up, Mama! I'm hungry! I want my food!'_ he purred in her ear.

Yet, no matter how much he kneaded, it seemed that his mistress simply did _not_ want to wake up. It was a Saturday, the morning after her Occlumency lessons, and the second night of actually getting a good eight hours sleep. More than enough reason for one to stay in bed until at least nine in the morning, or so her mindset seemed to be. However, Mico, the little furry, adorable little bugger, was a little more than persistent when it came to his food this morning. He was downright determined.

'_Your whole purpose in life is to feed me, play with me and love me. You should know the code by now, you have been a cat for nearly two years yourself, whiskers forbid! Wake up, you sleeping human!'_

She turned over, forcing him to scamper to the side of the bed, while muttering something that sounded like, "Dragons later, Professor"- or was that 'lemons'? Mico wasn't sure. His whiskers twitched. Well, he had got _some_ response, at least. He hopped back onto his Mistress and began kneading her back, purring louder this time.

'_Mama, wake up!'_

He could have sworn he saw her eyes flutter at his massage and her lips softly curl. He chirped a meow in excitement, then continued his little kneading dance. '_Good morning, Mama! Time to feed me!'_

But nothing happened, and he kneaded even more. His paws moved in between her shoulder blades. He seemed to hit a particularly sensitive spot when his mistress mumbled something. He narrowed his eyes in irritation, then continued to press his paws in the area. Her eyes fluttered again and the smile increased, and by this time he knew he was being fooled. She was enjoying this! He abruptly stopped his work and jumped off, forcing a groan from her. He let out a frustrated meow

'_Not funny, Mama! I'm hungry!'_ his stomach grumbled loudly. '_See? Get up! I want food!'_

Finally, his mistress lifted her head. She looked at him with a bit of an amused frown, which earned her several annoyed flicks of his tiny tail and ears.

"Why did you stop, boy? That felt good..." she whined with a bit of a chuckle as she threw the covers off her bed. When her bare feet touched the floor, he immediately began circling around her legs, herding her to his food bowl. She laughed. "All right, all right!"

With a flick of her hand, there was a small pile of food ready for him to indulge himself. The brown tabby dashed over and instantly began to satisfy his hunger. Minerva smiled then bent down to give him an ear scratch. It had only been for a few seconds when suddenly she gasped, looking at the time. It was nearly ten!

"Why didn't they wake me?" the witch screeched as she quickly pulled her silky, Gryffindor-proud, tartan nightgown over her head and grabbed her long emerald green witch robes from her dresser. She wasted no time getting ready. Barely two minutes had passed before she was fully dressed with her dark haired pinned back, and she was out the door. It took her nearly nine minutes to reach the Great Hall- twelve flights of stairs were a lot to get down, not to mention the complications of them moving. She probably could have made it in four if she ran in her Animagus form, but Minerva had been trying to severely limit using the ability since Tom Riddle seemed to be watching her every step, and even more so with the Untergang probably lurking about as well. She simply couldn't afford the risk of being spotted.

The moment Minerva entered the room, she noticed both Professor Merrythought and Madam Nurix glance her way. The Matron then leaned into the elder witch's ear, whispering a few words that made Galatea purse her lips and reply with a choice words that made Madam Nurix chuckle. Professor Dumbledore also glanced her way, but it was only for a mere moment before he continued his- what appeared to be -rather serious conversation with the Headmaster.

There were several dozen students still in the Hall, a good majority of them were doing their homework- except for a few Slytherins who were gossiping between themselves. Her friends were all grouped together, either flicking their wands around to practice their spells, or writing their essays. While she wanted to be frustrated with her sisters, she knew they had good intentions for not waking her up. Simply put, she had been exhausted when she got back from her Occlumency lessons and they had all been worried for her. Everyone was there at the table, even Pomona and Poppy.

"Good morning, Min!" Rolanda sang as she skipped towards her, her golden hawk eyes were positively beaming. Clearly someone was in a good mood. "Seems like you slept well."

"I did and I might have slept in longer had it not been for Mico. But really, ten in the morning? Rola, you should have woken me up!"

"I know, I know," the hawk-eyed witch hooked her arm around her sister's and began dragging her to the table, "but you looked so peaceful, I just couldn't!"

"None of us could, not even I," Poppy said with a bit of a smile, catching on to the conversation. "You needed your sleep, Min, you can't deny that."

The two witches sat down.

"I won't deny it, but still," she smirked. "Next time you let me sleep in like that, could you at least feed Mico?"

"What? But I fed him... oh, that little bugger! Oscar must have eaten it!" Augusta huffed. "I'll have a talk with him."

Minerva chuckled. "No offence, Gusta, but I think I might be able to communicate with him a little better." The green-eyed witch winked. Most of the table laughed, except for Mikail, who still didn't know about Minerva's Animagus ability- and probably never would. He raised a brow with a shrug, then muttered something in Russian about the crazy British which made him chuckle. Poppy threw him a rather cold glance, then returned to her work. Minerva caught the slight tension and rolled her eyes with a small smirk.

Just then, with a great cry, most of the Owlery flew into the hall. While no one in the group was expecting anything, a certain gift landed in Pomona's hands which sparked everyone's attention. It was a rose. Just a single red rose.

Augusta was immediately on the poor Hufflepuff's case. "Oh, Mona! You never told us you were seeing someone!"

The pudgy witch's cheeks flushed, partially embarrassed, but also confused. "I'm not."

"Does it say who it's from?" Rolanda asked, scooting closer towards the flustered girl.

Pomona looked at the note that was gently attached to the flower's stem by thin white string. She shook her head. "It just says; _'Sorry if the thorns prick you. I hope you like it'_."

"Oh, a secret admirer!" Augusta giggled, then narrowed her eyes and turned towards Kevin. "You hardly ever get me roses."

The wizard pecked her on the nose. "Well then, I shall get you a bouquet. Maybe add a box of chocolates while I'm at it?"

A small squeal escaped the blond haired witch. "You just want to watch me eat them," she said softly, although little louder than a whisper, then licked her lips.

Most at the table laughed, except for Poppy who just rolled her eyes, very much not amused.

"Go out to the corridors if you're going to get all mushy and romantic," she muttered with her honey glazed voice more crisp than normal.

"Oh lighten up, Poppy, we're just having fun."

"Speaking of fun," Poppy waved the conversation away and glanced at Minerva, "or something close to it; did you hear what happened to Miss Umbridge last night?"

Rolanda nearly cackled hearing those words, her eyes were shining madly. "You should have seen her this morning, stomping around with the most bitter look in her eyes!"

"Oh? What happened?"

"She apparently crossed a few Centaurs and muttered 'filthy half-breed beasts' under her breath and they tried to attack her."

"She vas lucky Mr Pringle vas there to keep her safe. Centaurs are nothing to make light of." Mikail said rather darkly. Poppy's brow raised in mock curiosity and Minerva felt like groaning. She wondered if they'd been arguing yet.

"Something you've experienced, Lutrov?"

"Again, you can call me Mikail," he sighed in slight irritation. "And for the record, yes, I saw my mentor get trampled by one. It nearly killed him."

The apprentice healer clicked her tongue, and her eyes did not soften. "What _were_ you doing out there, I wonder."

Minerva sniffed, her eyes wide with disbelief. The wizard just admitted that he watched his mentor be nearly trampled to death and there was no sympathy. Not even the slightest. She could understand not trusting Mikail, but this was not in her sister's nature, not in the least. _For Merlin's sake, Poppy! Give it a rest, will you?_

Poppy glared back, but didn't say anything else. Shutting off her connection to both sisters, she simply shook her head and began to leave the table. "I shall be in the Hospital Wing then in case you have need of me."

She left without another word, leaving most of the table to watch her walk out with incredulous looks on their faces.

"Something I said?" Mikail asked quietly, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"I don't think so." Pomona sighed. "What's with her lately?"

"Hmph, Goodness knows. It's like she's another person lately." Rolanda pursed her lips. _I thought you said she had lightened up about your decision to retrieve your memories?_

_I thought she has too... I think this has more to do with Mikail and the Untergang, but Merlin- she's changing._

_Well, I want the old Poppy back. This new one is far too bitter for my liking._

Minerva couldn't agree more. However, she had a dreadful feeling that it was only just beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>The idea for the scene between Umbridge and McGonagall that [<strong> roby-boh. deviantart. com **] made. I thought it was hilarious and decided to depict it here :D**

**Please review!  
>~LinK<br>**


	26. Rancored Suspicion

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **"_Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna to get."_

**~Fear not!** LinK has not disappeared! She just got swept up in the mess called: End of the year finals, senior trips and **graduation!**  
>I apologize as I sincerely underestimated my time... and I shamefully got addicted to Legend of Korra (Lin Beifong is like Minerva reincarnated from this plot line and is a total BAMF), along with that I was having trouble with writing this. So, please don't blame my betas lol! They're fantastic and amazing and I cannot thank them enough. Especially Em who has had to deal with me for the past 6 months! I don't know howwhy she does it!

**Beta #1:** I love the way she assumes you'll all blame us! Hahaha nah, Congrats to LinK for Graduating! It's all downhill from here my lovely! :D Wait until you're as old as us ahem, me. Still, very well done for coping with all of that and managing to produce this behemoth of a chapter!

**~Enjoy another 13k! Oh, and there's an "easter egg" in here :D Cookies to those who catch it!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 25 - Rancored Suspicion<strong>

**September 18th, 1942:**

Mikail Lutrov was not a man that let his social life affect him. If someone didn't like him, then that was their problem. Everyone he knew that had a hankering for sending a hex his way had a reason for disliking him. But that was the catch. They _all_ had a reason. Miss Poppy Pomfrey, however, didn't- or not one that he could see from her perspective, at least. While she obviously didn't agree with him helping Minerva decipher her memories, that didn't mean she should hate him... _did it?_

No, there was something else boiling underneath the otherwise sweet, pretty healer. Yes, he went so far as to call her pretty, a woman with a bit of fire in her heart was always attractive to him. She had been generally kind and had even joked in his presence during the Sorting and feast. Now that he thought about it, she was probably the only witch who hadn't looked at him when he grudgingly walked behind the first years, as she was busy reading. He briefly wondered if something would be different if she _had_ looked up at him..._ Doubtful._

He gathered through little chats with Rolanda that Poppy hardly ever acted so cold. The hawk-eyed witch was just as troubled about her behaviour as he was.

'_She's a completely different person these days, I don't get it!'_ she told him with hurt and anger flashing across her golden eyes. He liked Rolanda Hooch. She tended to be more straightforward than the others, even Augusta Louise- although then again, she spent most of her free time with Kevin Longbottom- who had been true to his word, and delivered her a bouquet and box of chocolates.

To put it mildly, Poppy confused him more than Minerva McGonagall- and that was saying something. The green-eyed, dark haired Gryffindor Prefect was an anomaly to him. She continued to amaze him with her abilities, and not just with magic, her coursework as well. How in Merlin's name was she able to handle so many classes, and earn an 'Outstanding' on everything was beyond him. He suspected that there was a Time-Turner involved, and being able to handle such a device, as well as the consequences that came from it, was even more commendable. Then there was the whole deal with her memories being tampered with. That itself made his mind run in circles. _What mother in their right mind would do that to her own child's memories?_

He could understand if it had happened just the once, perhaps she had seen something that would have been horrific for a young child to witness- which he prayed wasn't the case. He could name a few '_compromising' _situations that _no _parent would wish any child to _ever _see. If that was the case, he'd ask Minerva to tamper with his own memories. However, he got the feeling that this was not the reason. There was always a look in the talented witch's green eyes when they spoke of it. It was dark, full of hurt and anger the likes of which Mikail could only imagine to be neglect. Whatever the case, he was going to help her no matter what- it was not an option for him.

And apparently it wasn't an option in Poppy's eyes either, although she was fighting tooth and nail _against_ him at every turn. It was just as compromising as it was confusing. Her suspicions of him- whatever her reasons -was not helping his _'case'_, nor was Professor Merrythought's for that matter. Mikail was no fool, he knew of the tall, strict professor's opinion of him- although granted that was for a different reason, one he couldn't blame her for.

And there it was _again._ A reason. Something Poppy didn't have. The witch was _not_ aware of Merrythought's reasons, he was sure of it. Just like no one was aware of his own reasons for being at Hogwarts. _No one_ knew the scale of which he was currently operating, not even his own parents. Sometimes he wondered what he had really got himself into, but when he looked at Minerva, seeing just how powerful she was, he knew it was worth it. There were somethings that were worth struggling for, and the fate of the war was one of them.

_So,_ he mused for about the millionth time this past week as he walked to Arithmancy class, _if none of these are explanations towards Poppy's obvious dislike... what is?_ And yet again, he could not come up with a plausible reason.

_Why can't things ever be simple?_ He didn't need this. He didn't need her rejection, suspicion, and anger. He did _not_ need to be so bloody focused on the apprentice healer.

The days that he had Arithmancy with Poppy were generally the worst, in regards to how the she acted around him. They generally involved her deliberately sitting all the way across the room from him, but would still glare at him whenever he spoke. He was determined to change that, well, the sitting across the room part at least. Some, even Minerva, might call him stupid. But he needed answers. Poppy was driving him crazy.

He took his sweet time walking to class, carefully timing his strides. When he entered the room, nearly everyone was there, and as he anticipated, the seat near Poppy was empty. She sat in the front row this time, drumming her fingers on the desk softly, her left leg crossed over her right. Prim, proper Poppy Pomfrey. He smiled, albeit softly as he didn't intend to antagonize the witch more than he was about to.

Mikail strode down the room with soft footsteps, specifically keeping behind his target so she only saw him when he reached for the empty chair. Her hazel eyes went wide, he wasn't sure if it was in shock or fear- maybe both. She glanced around the room, looking for an alternate seat, but then the bell rang, and their professor closed the classroom door. There would be no changing places now. The witch's body stiffened as he eased himself into the chair, her eyes narrowed and lips thinned with anger that could be felt across the room. Just about everyone knew by now that Poppy particularly disliked the Russian transfer student. Professor Callidus raised his brow at the pair for a moment, but said nothing of it and instead gave the class a reading assignment.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed under her breath as they flipped through pages, eyes never once leaving the book.

"Pardon me, it is the only seat available."

"As I'm _sure_ you planned," she muttered darkly. It surprised him as to how low her voice could drop when angry.

"Planned?" Okay, yes, he did plan it- but not in how she was referring. He didn't _want_ to get under her skin, or make her mad, he just wanted to know why she hated him so.

"Do you want me to hex you?"

"Not particularly."

"Then why are you sitting next to _me?"_

"Because I do not understand vhy-"

The professor cleared his throat, signalling for silence. Mikail frowned, but Poppy smirked, challenging him to speak again. She _wanted_ him to be sent out. It was infuriating, and he almost gave in, but the fact that his silence might actually surprise her kept his mouth shut. If it did she didn't show it, she was too focused on her reading and forgetting that Mikail, who in her eyes was very likely working with the Untergang, was sitting next to her. She could read between the lines though, he didn't _need_ her suspicion because it drew unwanted attention. And he didn't _need_ the attention, he _needed_ her to be friendly, to gather information on Minerva!

Her body was ever so stiff, even when reading. Poppy didn't want him here, near her, talking to her. She knew he was a Legilimens and was very much worried about him getting her alone and invading her mind. She didn't know Occlumency and didn't have an astral to protect her mind. She knew things about Minerva that any member of the Untergang would _love_ to know- her sister surviving an Overload in her fourth year, was one of them. It was all someone would need in order to believe that it was she who _they_ were looking for. Experiencing one was enough, but surviving it, and at her age, was irrefutable evidence towards Minerva's prowess. Secondly, her lessons with Merrythought and Dumbledore. Then there was the fact that she held the sword of Godric Gryffindor on her person- what other symbol would the Untergang need to believe Minerva was being invested in? And finally, Poppy of course _knew_ that the Untergang wanted Minerva in the first place. That was that.

_Does no one realize the importance of the information that we hold?_ It drove her mad that her sisters and friends wouldn't listen to her on this. _Mikail is a Legilimens for Merlin's sake, and he just so happens to be a person of interest regarding the Untergang... and no one else finds this suspicious? Not to mention the fact that he's keen on helping Minerva!_

Poppy didn't get much reading done that hour, to say the least. She was too focused on keeping her eyes away from Mikail's. She read that the attacker needed to see the eyes of their victim before striking- and that Legilimency could be conducted non-verbally. It scared her that he was so close.

_Would anyone notice if he invaded? Could anything be done to stop him by an outside force?_ She shuddered at the thought of there being no escape.

Professor Callidus passed out their homework assignments, allowing the students a good ten minutes to get started. His students were always allowed small chatter by the end of class, provided they were not overly rowdy. Poppy hadn't been looking forward to this, she had a feeling Mikail would start talking- which was proven right the second their worksheet was passed around.

"Vhat's your favorite number?" he asked, partially out of curiosity. It _was_ number related after all, and he was rather tired of the silence. It wasn't an evasive question, just a way to begin small talk. That's all he really wanted to do. She kept her mouth shut on this, however, with the only noise she made being the sound of her quill scratching across parchment. He frowned. "Vell, mine is three."

"Then you must know the answer to the question." Her eyes narrowed and deliberately avoided his gaze once more. She was taunting him, intended or not.

"It's asking vhen our test is. Plug in the number of hours ve spend on the unit, a day of study time, and then divide vithin 4Q. It ties in vith X plus R3C."

"That'll take you into Thursday, maybe by then you'll drop the act and let me work?"

"Who says I am acting?"

He could see her restraint as her lips thinned, biting back a retort. He didn't understand why she did that either, he was used to people just saying what was on their mind, not this ridiculous game of cat and mouse. Part of him wanted to just use Legilimens on her mind to see for himself what was going on behind those angry hazel eyes. But he'd rather be killed before he did that. He _never_ operated in such a vile, dishonorable manner.

"I vill rephrase; _vhy_ do you think I'm acting?" Again she didn't provide an answer. He sighed. This was becoming ridiculous. "Look, I vill leave you alone if you just tell me vhat I've done."

Poppy blinked a couple of times and her arms relaxed for a few seconds, but then it all went back to square one and she didn't answer. Instead, she glanced at her wristwatch and began packing away her things. She just wanted to get out of here, away from the questioning wizard. Seeing this, Mikail copied her actions.

The bell rang, and all the students filed out. Poppy tried to increase her pace to get a few bodies between them, but her efforts were futile.

"Poppy, can ve talk?" He asked quietly behind her, causing her shoulders stiffened. _For Merlin's sake, she's acting like I'm here to attack her!_

"Just leave me alone, _Lutrov."_

He didn't correct her on his name, he reasoned she wasn't going to change on that matter for a while. "I don't get it..."

"_You_ don't need to get _anything!"_ she hissed quietly, but still ferociously. Her hazel eyes searched the scene before her when finally she saw her chance and bolted out the door.

"Vait!" he called out, half knowing she wasn't going to comply anyway.

Mikail ran after the rust-haired girl, earning several stares, gawks and whistles. He didn't care about them, quite honestly he couldn't care about anyone right now.

"Poppy, vait, please, I just vant to talk!" he called after her while running up the Witch's Eye stairwell. If anything, his calls only fueled her fury and desire to stay further away from him, which in turn drove him to run faster. "Poppy!"

The wizard battled his way up several flights of stairs before realizing that the apprentice healer wasn't going anywhere in particular, she was just running to get away. He did eventually reach her, however; he was stronger than she was, more physically fit. She gave him a good chase though, there was no doubt about that. He hadn't run like that for several years.

"Poppy..." Mikail gently took her wrist, but she jerked away violently. Her breathing was heavy and her hazel eyes were glaring at him with a fury that the wizard simply could not comprehend.

"_What do you want from me, Lutrov?" _she asked darkly, secretly satisfied that Mikail was obviously taken aback by her ferocity. Poppy didn't need this right now, she didn't need to be chased down by the man who was probably conspiring to kill her beloved sister! How _dare_ he even ask to talk to her when all he wanted was to gain information on Minerva, to build a trust within her so she would tell him all he needed to know! Nothing else. There was _nothing_ else that he wanted.

"I just vant to talk," he said, genuinely calm and sincere.

Yet, that just made her scoff at him. His act was hilarious, in a spitefully irritating sort of way. _"You _are harassing me."

He took a deep breath, keeping his frustration down. The last thing he wanted was to let that get the better of him. "Vhatever have I done to make you hate me, Poppy?" His tawny brown eyes were soft, filled with concern and confusion. The witch sniffed sharply. She would not give in.

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know?" the witch muttered sardonically under her breath.

Except Mikail _did_ want to know. He was legitimately confused at the hatred which Poppy displayed. She hadn't been like that when they first met, or the few days after that.

"You didn't hate me when ve first met, or a few days after that. I am just confused, Poppy. I do not understand."

"_Of course_ you don't!" she snapped, her hazel eyes narrowed, daring him to challenge her with another question, then stormed off when he stayed silent, all the while filling her head with thoughts that she was doing the right thing. He was _just _manipulating her. He was _not_ genuinely confused. He was _not_ concerned about her, _nor_ did he actually care! Mikail Lutrov was _not_ just trying to be sensible and friendly, and Poppy was _not_ going to be responsible for providing the knowledge that resulted in her sister's death!

Proof or not, Mikail Lutrov was a part of the Untergang, she was now utmost positive.

* * *

><p>If anyone had asked Minerva McGonagall if she was, by chance, excited, she wouldn't have denied it. For the first time she was actually going to have lessons with Galatea Merrythought that did <em>not<em> involve destruction in some way-shape-or form. Relatively speaking, this might even be classed as a happy lesson. It involved Patronuses after all, positive energy forces- or spirits, if you believed in that sort of thing, that is.

Quidditch practice had gone swimmingly, if she did say so herself. Rolanda was brilliant as Captain. Practices were a bit more methodical and talent based, which was exactly what this year's team needed. Weasley had proved to be the Beater they were looking for, unsurprisingly. On top of that, O'Keir's father had got him a new broom and he was steadily beginning to evolve his own tactics to keep up with Minerva, which was highly commendable. By the first match, everyone would be more than prepared to take on Ravenclaw.

When the team retired to the locker rooms hot, sweaty and tired, Minerva was probably the only one smiling in the end.

"What's got you all cheery, Min?" Rolanda asked quietly as she took off her gear.

"Patronus lesson tonight," the green-eyed witch whispered.

"Well, I wish I had your enthusiasm."

"Still no letter from Xavier?"

The hawk-eyed witch sighed. "No, but I don't blame him, I know it could be weeks before I hear back. It doesn't make it any easier though."

Minerva rubbed the girl's shoulder in a comforting manner. "He'll be all right, sister."

Rolanda nodded absently. "Yeah, I know."

When they finished changing they made their usual way back to the castle with their usual chatting of current events.

"Is there any news on Mona's admirer?"

That brought a sweet gleam to Rolanda's golden yellow eyes. "None whatsoever! It's rather amusing too, especially because Gusta's trying to pester Mona into making a list- but you know our dear, lovely Badger, she'd rather keep this whole thing quiet and wait until the person finally steps up!"

Minerva chuckled. "I would too, if I were her."

"Speaking of admirers..." the hawk-eyed witch looked around, making sure no one was around. "How's Mikail's study on Memory Tamperings going?"

The dark haired witch rolled her eyes. "He's not an admirer, Rola, just a friend... of sorts. I'm still keeping him at a distance. He _is_ possibly working for the Untergang."

Rolanda rolled her eyes. "Right. Look, Min, I'm not convinced on that fact. He's seen what you're capable of, magic wise. Only an idiot would think you aren't who the Untergang wants by that fact alone... Um, while we're on the subject, Poppy..."

There wasn't much she needed to say on that. The apprentice healer had been more distant and cold over the past few days and not just towards Mikail now, although he still received the blunt end of it all. The whole thing was causing the group to stir with tension. They didn't know what to do. They'd never had to tackle a task such as this one; there were so many variables, so many questions, that was mounting as this year continued to pave its way forward. There was no manuscript detailing how to deal with stress of such magnitude- and yet again, they all had to keep reminding themselves that the year had only _just_ begun.

Minerva groaned. "I don't get it. She said she wasn't going to trust him-_ not_ wage war on the poor lad, or begin to change her outlook on the world!"

"I worry about her, Min. These cold glares she's throwing at him whenever he opens his mouth, the insensitivity she's developing... She doesn't even get this testy when it's her _time of the month_ for Merlin's sake! None of us do!"

"I know, I know." The dark haired witch sighed. "I'll talk to Galatea, see if Madam Nurix has noticed anything either... maybe even get some advice while I'm at it."

"Oh, here's our troubled sister now." Rolanda nodded down the hall. "Poppy! Over here!"

Minerva turned her head, seeing the rust-colored hair witch look up at them, her hazel eyes seeming a little glazed. She could tell there was some hesitation, but eventually the girl walked over.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she muttered.

"Poppy, you really can't tell us _'nothing'_ anymore. Look, we may not see eye-to-eye on Mikail-"

"I don't want to talk about _him._ Not today."

Minerva bit her tongue, holding back a groan. "Poppy, we're just concerned about you."

The healer looked away, softly shaking her head and sighed. _"You,_ of all people, should be worried about yourself."

"I really don't understand why you're acting like this, Poppy," Rolanda continued, her voice was as calm and sincere as it could be considering the subject. "Mikail has done nothing so far, the Untergang haven't burst into Hogwarts, demanding Min, _yet_."

"Lutrov hasn't been here very long, he's still trying to figure it all out. This is all like a giant equation to him, a puzzle, and he's manipulating all of you into his schemes!"

"_Mikail_ has done nothing of the sort!"

"Girls, please-" Minerva tried to interrupt but failed miserably.

"Do you realize how much information you have on Minerva? How much _he_ could utilize?"

"_He_ isn't about to invade anyone's mind, Poppy. Mikail is _not_ like that."

"That's what he wants you to think, Rola! Lutrov wants you to slip because you're relaxed around him. If presented with the chance, I believe he would use Legilimency on you!"

"That is _the_ most crazy, outlandish and absurd idea I have _ever_ heard from you, especially when you have been given no reason to suspect-!"

"The fact that he's possibly working with the Untergang gives me enough _reason!"_

"_Enough, _for Merlin's sake,_ enough!" _Minerva shouted, her green eyes flashed with irritation. "Both of you are clearly stressed beyond your wits end. We have _never_ fought like this!"

"Your life has never been in danger before," Poppy muttered darkly.

Rolanda's eyes narrowed at the apprentice healer. "And _you_ have never been so cold and distant before, especially not with_ us."_

"I'm the only one taking this matter seriously, it seems. Lutrov_ is_ with the Untergang, Rola, I'm sure of it!"

"And I'm quite convinced that he_ isn't._ Anyone would have told the Untergang that Min was who they were after by now, just by seeing her magical prowess alone!"

"Oh, I give up!" the green-eyed witch threw her hands in the air. "Must you two be so abominably persistent on taking sides?"

"Do you even _have _a side, Minerva?" both of them countered in unison.

The dark haired Gryffindor closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Both of her sisters were highly agitated, it would not bode well for any of the three if she started raising her voice in anger.

"My _'side'_ is with caution, patience and careful planning- what I asked for in the beginning, and which neither of you two seem to understand. Since we don't know if Mikail is, or is not, with the Untergang, there is no point in treating him like the enemy, but, there isn't a point in letting him become too close _either." _Minerva sighed. "I think both of you just need to go take a hot shower, relax, and not say another word for the rest of the evening, especially around Augusta. Just hearing you all bicker like this will make her blow up something. Even_ I_ am close to shattering windows right now. I love you both, but go to bed!"

With that, the dark haired witch left her sisters with a sharp turn of the heel, just as she felt her mirror pulse with warm energy.

"I'm coming, I'm coming…" Minerva muttered to herself as she slipped into the girl's lavatory, transformed and then began to sneak around the castle towards the Room of Requirement.

* * *

><p>"There you are," Professor Merrythought spoke up as she hauled herself from the conjured sofa the moment Minerva entered the room. Instead of the usually empty stone walls used in previous training exercises, it now appeared similar to the woman's office. "I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten."<p>

"Sorry, Galatea, I would have been here on time after Quidditch if it wasn't for a ridiculous scuffle between Rola and Poppy."

"Oh?" she raised a brow. The girls had hardly ever fought amongst themselves during their six years at the school. "What's this all about?"

"Mikail Lutrov, of all things."

"Out of jealousy or the Untergang?" Minerva frowned, then shrugged. "Untergang, I guess." she sighed. "Rola is with Mikail, she doesn't think he's part of the Untergang; Poppy's obviously against him, and she's changing because of it; and I'm in the middle."

"What about Miss Louise and Miss Sprout?"

"They're keeping caution, but other than that, they're just staying out of it. I don't blame them, in fact, I envy them at this point."

The professor sighed, then placed her hand on the girl's shoulder. "I had hoped, in vain, that this would not affect you three. I know I probably do not need to tell you this, darling, but you need to be strong. The moment you break, you risk being vulnerable. That being said, _everyone _has a breaking point, so let me be with you if you do break, to keep the vulnerability at a minimum..." Her voice seemed to trail off at the end, as if there might have been more to say, but she never did vocalize it.

Minerva looked up at the elder witch with a soft smile on her lips. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Galatea blinked several times, to the point that the younger witch wondered if she was holding back tears as she looked off into the fire place nearby. "I am glad to hear that." She squeezed her hand, then let it fall to her side. "Tell me, have you learned anything from Mr Lutrov, yet?"

The Gryffindor blinked, erasing anything within her eyes that could betray her. "He told me that he studied Legilimency for five years at Durmstrang, he was apparently one of the best."

She noted Galatea's sharp inhale, her eyes narrowed. "Has he said anything regarding who his mentor was?"

Minerva shook her head. "No, just that he was almost trampled to death by a Centaur."

The woman raised a brow. "Did he now? Interesting..." She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, causing the younger witch to raise a brow.

"Do you know who that is?"

Galatea's eyes flashed and hardened, as if remembering a rather vivid past event. "I only know of one man who would fit such a description, Erlend Karkaroff. He and I crossed paths many years before you were born."

"By _'crossed paths'_ you mean fought?"

An odd, quick smile traced its way into the corners of the woman's lips before vanishing. "Of sorts. I probably would have fought and killed him had I not been too busy trying to figure a way out of the dungeons without drowning, and then surviving the wilderness on my own without freezing to death."

"Drowning in dungeons? Freezing? Just where were you?"

"The Vladivostok Fortress in Russia during an early January. Of all bloody times, it was during a blizzard- and do not ask me what I was doing there, darling, for I cannot even tell Madam Nurix or Professor Dumbledore. It was Ministry business, that is all you need to know."

_Ministry business inside a God-forsaken dungeon in the middle of nowhere during a blizzard? I wonder just how many scars she gained from that?_ Images of the woman's battle injuries, particularly on her back, flashed through her mind and Minerva found that she had to shake her head to rid herself free of them.

"Let's continue with our previous topic, shall we?" she suggested softly.

"Yes, I think that would be for the best." The professor blinked once or twice, her pale eyes returning to the softness that the Gryffindor enjoyed. "Has Mr Lutrov mentioned anything of his family to you?"

"He said that his family doesn't use the Dark Arts unless it's absolutely necessary, something about it being 'dishonourable'. In all honestly, I'm not entirely sure what to make of it."

Galatea clicked her tongue, a bit surprised that the lad would even mention such things, but nevertheless she bobbed her head slowly. "His family is known for following the 'honour code'. It is an old thing, not used much since Stalin took over Russia, but for those families who do keep such a code they are quite strict about it, going so far as to disowning family members who do not comply."

"Do you believe that he's following that code?"

The woman sniffed, then shook her head. "As your teacher, I would say that he probably is. However, as your..." she licked her lips, "..._guardian,_ I do not know what to believe."

Minerva raised a brow towards the new possessive and personal noun, just as the feeling in her chest swelled with a feeling that she knew to be love by now. _A guardian..._

"However," the elder witch continued, "what I do know is that it never hurts to be cautious, darling, and I sincerely hope you are doing that." She sighed, taking out her wand. "Come, let us get on with your lesson."

"The incantation is _'Expecto Patronum',_ yes?"

The woman nodded with the barest smile on her lips. "You are correct. Now, the key towards creating a Patronus is to think of a thought; a wonderful, victorious, happy memory that fills you with feeling. It must be powerful and embodying. Something you hold _very_ close to you. Once you have that, exert it into your being and speak the incantation."

The Gryffindor closed her eyes, running her mind through the possibilities that Galatea had described. She didn't have many happy memories to choose from, not of the likes which fit the prerequisite, although the one that rang the biggest bell she did have was quite recently made. A smile gave way into the corners of her mouth.

"From your smile, I'd say that you have one?"

Minerva simply nodded, not wanting to lose the memory's grasp. She relived it in her mind, the moment she opened the door and found Galatea still alive the night after her attack, when her arms enveloped around the woman, that feeling of complete and utter happiness that could make her forget- for a moment - that _nothing_ _else_ in the world mattered, that _nothing _was wrong in her life and _everything_ would be set right if it wasn't.

She raised her wand without faulting the feeling, and just as the words left her lips, she opened her sparkling green eyes to the sight of a bright, mystical, silvery-blue tabby cat. If she was correct, it was an exact replica of her Animagus form. The Patronus weightlessly swirled in the air, dancing with grace around her. She could feel the emotion she emitted embodied within the spell, pulsing throughout her body, enlightening her soul. It was beautiful.

"Very good, Minerva, now hold on tight to the memory. When you are ready, inform your Patronus of what you wish it to say, and _who_ to say it to. Make sure you _feel_ the person, flash a few thoughts of them within your mind. I suggest something a bit simple, and direct it towards me, that way we _know_ if the message was received."

"All right then." The Gryffindor smiled as the silvery feline persona mewed softly. "Send this message to Professor Galatea Merrythought. While you may suggest something simple, Professor, I believe that something intricate and _'difficult'_ is rather my style." She winked towards the woman, who then chuckled and shook her head in amusement. "I cannot help but wonder, are all Patronuses of Animagi the same? I also wonder if you might have advice on how to gently mention to Poppy that she's changing and not for the better? She's becoming cold, distant and it's very concerning."

With a flick of her wand, she sent the silvery feline away to deliver her message. The Patronus bounded around the air, gracefully poncing about the room towards the elder witch. It rubbed its body around the woman's ankles, then effortlessly climbed to eye level to relay the message. Yet, the woman wasn't entirely listening, having already heard it. She narrowed her eyes in thought. When the spell dissolved after perfectly speaking as it was told, Galatea glanced at her pupil.

"As for the first, generally yes. Even if someone has fallen in love, the Animagus within them tends to be the overwhelming magical force, keeping their Patronus constant." A faint smile touched her lips. "The same cannot be said for non-Animagi, however." Galatea sighed, her smile fading just as the breath escaped her body.

"As for the second..." she pursed her lips. "Just when did Miss Pomfrey begin this... change?"

"After we found out about Mikail."

The woman nodded as if in understanding. "You said that she was rather persistent about him being a part of the Untergang, which I cannot blame her for."

"I don't either, but this seems to be beyond that. She's changing Galatea, she's never acted like this. It's rather disconcerting... Has Madam Nurix noticed anything?"

"Other than Miss Pomfrey appearing more and more in the Hospital Wing to work, no, she hasn't." Minerva sighed, causing the elder witch to smile sadly. "I am sure it's just stress, dear. None of you have dealt with this sort of thing before, and I have no doubt that her mind is simply trying to find a way to cope with it all."

When the young woman's green eyes did not connect with her own, Galatea knew she had not completely erased the worry swirling inside that talented and vastly intelligent mind. "I'm just not convinced. Poppy isn't one to let _anything_ change her personality this drastically- especially stress. She's always been _very_ keen on letting nothing alter who she is."

"Hmm, I'll make you a deal." Minerva's brows arched with a bit of surprise. There hadn't been anything indicating that the woman had wanted something from her- well, nothing that wasn't already said, at least. "If Poppy doesn't come around in a few more weeks, I will ask Helena to keep a closer eye on her, but only if you promise me to spend the Halloween Hogsmeade day with your brothers. It is on a Saturday, so there shouldn't be any problems with schedule conflicts."

The green-eyed witch blinked a few times as a incredulous smile made its way onto her lips. She had expected just about anything _but_ the woman asking her to be with Malcom and Cayden. "Any particular reason?"

Galatea shrugged. "Being in Hogwarts- especially in different houses, or not in Hogwarts at all yet -does not entirely afford the best environment for relationships with siblings. I've been keeping an eye on both of them for several years, much as I have with you-"

"Wait, you've been watching me?"

The woman just barely parted her mouth, as if to correct the Gryffindor, but then closed it and nodded instead, before continuing. "I can see that they are missing a family-like structure. I know you spend at least three hours with Cayden every week, which I highly commend you for considering your terribly busy schedule, but from what I have observed, your brothers miss what 'family' used to mean." She sighed. "Which Isobel _is _ also partially to blame for. She's pushed you away, and in turn, you push not only yours, but their... _mother_ away as well."

Yet again, Minerva noticed Galatea's trouble with saying the word 'mother'. Before, the woman had always corrected herself by saying 'Isobel', this time she actually said the word, with a slight hesitation before it. She wondered what was the problem, why it was so difficult to say the a relatively simple word, almost as if the woman was fighting a habit. Her eyes narrowed as the possibility of the woman also using the Gaelic form, but quickly waved it off. _Why would anyone wish to hide the language anyway? And besides, if I use the Gaelic form, wouldn't that encourage her to use it as well if it was of habit? No, if Galatea hasn't spoken it yet, then she doesn't use it..._

"They have no control over any of this, Minerva. I think they are just as confused, if not more, than you are on Isobel's behaviour. Malcom is beginning to see the indifference of treatment, but Cayden is struggling with it. He doesn't understand why he's loved more than his siblings, even his brother."

The Gryffindor narrowed her eyes, remembering the past summer. She herself had noticed Isobel beginning to turn more cold against Malcom- or that Malcom was turning colder towards his mother... Either way, the love was departing between them. She wondered if maybe she'd finally be able to talk with him about Isobel. The mistreatment, the memories, the astrals...

_Astrals._ Minerva nearly hit herself. She'd been so bloody focused and caught up with her studies that she had never once wondered if Malcom or Cayden had activated their astrals yet! She reminded herself to speak of that when next in Hogsmeade.

"Yes, I see your point, Galatea. We haven't made time to get together, all three of us, for some time."

The woman smiled at this, although it was more in sadness than anything. This entire situation reeked of déjà vu. She was, yet again, guiding a young girl towards what _'family'_ was supposed to mean.

**October 8th, 1942:**

It had been a relatively quiet day. There had been no flowers for Pomona this morning- she had been regularly receiving at least one, once a week -so the normal bustle about her admirer was not present. Poppy had managed to keep her bubbling suspicion from surfacing into words- mainly due to the fact that she hadn't had Arithmancy with him. Augusta had actually managed to keep an appearance away from the corridors and spent most the day with them, as Kevin had much studying to do. Rolanda had finally received a letter from Xavier, and although it was short and not very detailed, it meant that he was alive and in good health. He couldn't say where he was, but he and his squad were making progress- whatever little it was though, there hadn't been much movement on either side as of late. The hawk-eyed witch had promptly replied, filling her letter with small details of events- mainly including Quidditch bits and pieces as Xavier loved hearing about them, and it helped keep his mind off the dangers his squad was constantly in. She then included her own personal thoughts, worries and affectionate words of the like, then sent it off with her golden eyes gleaming in hope and prayer.

Minerva had gone to visit little Cayden in the afternoon. 'Little' was probably not an accurate term anymore. He was growing like a bean and just beginning to lose his baby face. The boy was constantly, but pleasantly, surprising her with his magical progress. He was fiddling with levitation and becoming quite good at it, rarely making mistakes as Minerva had at his age. He would be attending Hogwarts next year, as Minerva kept having to remind herself. Secretly, she believed, and desperately hoped, he'd be in Gryffindor. Cayden was far too much like his sister, Minerva didn't need Madam Rominara's continuous comments on the matter to come to such analysis. He was headstrong, very brave, a little reckless, empathetic and his higher level of maturity was beginning to surface over his innocent mind. On top of that, he loved to read, loved the rain, and loved to 'play with magic'- the last one was the key indicator though. He had a tinge of a rebel heart when it came to magic, that precise rebel heart that Minerva had held at his age- and still did to this day.

"Come on, Minvey! I wanna go outside somewhere!" The young wizard tugged at her hand and forced her out the door.

"Oh, all right, all right!" she said with a chuckle, the boy's excitement around sunset was always refreshing. "Where do you want to go?"

"The lake! I want to go to the lake, Minvey!"

"The lake? Whatever for?"

"I want to see the mermaids there!"

Minerva's eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. With her research came graphic details of merpeople killing strangers that entered their waters; strangers that had mistakenly taken merpeople as their pretty, calm and peaceful counterparts.

"Not just_ any_ mermaids, Cayden. They're merpeople."

The boy rolled his big green eyes. "_Soo_?"

"So, they're different. Merpeople are _not_ friendly beasts. You must get that through your head, Cayd. They've _killed _people. They're different from sirens, different from the Siren we saw at the lake."

"But-"

"I'm sorry, Cayden, but the lake is dangerous. I don't want to go down there because I don't want to see you get hurt."

He stuck out his lip and crossed his arms, yet, there was mischief in his wondrous green eyes from brewing rebellious thoughts. It reminded her of when she was little and her mother- more or less -asked her not to go into the Enchanted Hallway._ Oh sweet Merlin, he's more like me than I thought!_

"Cayden," she tilted his head up, forcing his sparkling eyes to face his sister's identical copies, "promise me you won't go into the lake, please? I'm serious when I say that they kill. I don't want my little brother getting hurt."

"Oh all right, Minvey, I promise."

There was a chuckle from behind that brought a smile to Minerva's face. She turned around to face her other brother.

"Best you keep an eye on our little brother still, Minnie. If he's anything like you, which he _is,_ he'll find a way around that promise."

Cayden glared at him, then stuck his tongue out, causing his siblings to laugh.

"What are you doing here, Malcom? You're hardly ever in Hogsmeade."

The Ravenclaw shrugged. "Hagrid needed to get away from the castle. Ever since this whole Chamber business, Riddle's been a complete git to him. It's worse now that he's a bloody Prefect."

The Gryffindor frowned sadly with a soft shake of her head. "I'm sorry, I wish I could do something, I really-"

Malcom held up his hands, gesturing for her silence. "Hey, hey, I don't blame you. You can't assign him detentions anymore, I know."

Minerva sighed. "Still, I wish I could help..."

Suddenly a ferocious barking echoed from outside. The Ravenclaw's brilliant green eyes snapped wide with something akin to fear.

"That's Fang!" He bolted out the door with his sister following him, keeping up with his hurried pace quite easily with their little brother tagging along- though he had to practically jog to keep up with his siblings long strides. "Pringle said he'd keep him in his hut this week!"

"Why is Mr Pringle looking after Fang?" The witch questioned with her wand in hand, she was already slightly on edge with the barking that was now suddenly silenced.

"Remember what I said about Riddle? Well, he swore he'd kill Fang if he caught him 'snooping' around again! It's not Fang's fault that Riddle keeps a chunk of raw meat in his bag!"

"What the devil is Riddle doing with raw meat?"

"Not a bloody clue..." Malcom stopped, looked around the village, then pointed to the left. "I'll go this way, you and Cayd go the other, and pray we can find him before Riddle does!"

"Right." Minerva grabbed Cayden's hand, and with a quick exchange of glances, they took off into the south side alley.

"Minvey, why would someone want to kill a dog over finding meat in a pouch? Why would anyone want to kill _anything_ for that matter?"

The witch, although baffled by the questions coming from the boy's mouth, kept her calm as they strode down the dark alleys, the low sun providing very little light to see with. She flicked her wand, raising it just above her head, sending an illuminating glow around their premises.

"There are very few instances where killing is justified, Cayden."

"How can killing be _justified?"_ he said, rather astounded. They looked into a side passage, but it was empty.

"Well," she licked her lips. It was not a topic that she was particularly set on; after all, different situations can call for different measures. "For example, you know the bad men who started this whole war? They are powerful, dangerous and corrupt. In order to end it all, those men must be dealt with."

The barking had stopped, or at least she couldn't hear it- either way, it wasn't a good sign.

The young wizard called out for the dog, but there was no answer. He sighed, then looked back towards his sister. "That doesn't mean they should be killed, does it?"

Minerva sighed as they turned a corner, shining her light into yet another empty alley. Her eyesight was beginning to adjust to her Animagus' night vision, and the light from her wand was causing a bit of an issue. "It all depends. They're the cause of death for over a million people."

"So..." the little boy frowned, trying to understand, "it would be better to kill him than to lock him up?"

The witch pursed her lips on the controversial topic. It was one thing to speak her mind about these things, but it was another for her ten year old brother to hear them. She wasn't his mother for Merlin's sake, she was his sister! He was going through all this without his parents to teach him the meanings of such things, of war and death, only able to communicate through letters most of the time. She decided it was best to change topics, not knowing what to say on the matter.

"What's got you into thinking about this?" Minerva shined her wand into another alley, calling out for Fang once more. She was getting a little worried that they hadn't heard him bark for while.

"I read the newspaper that Madam Rominara left on the table. We're not supposed to have them, but I was _really_ bored... it talked about the Americans attacking the Japanese on a few Islands and the British bombing raids... a lot of death. It's scary."

At this point, Minerva couldn't keep herself from wrapping her arms around him. She prayed it made him feel a bit safer, just being in her embrace.

_He shouldn't be here,_ she thought quietly. _He should be with Màthair and Papa, it's too bloody dangerous here! The Untergang is out there, somewhere, and they want me... He's in more danger than he knows._

Galatea had advised her to keep things normal, to avoid suspicion, but what happened when they did find her?

"Yes. Yes, it _is _scary," she muttered, clutching him a bit tighter. Suddenly, a startling howl came from their left, followed by a menacing growl that Minerva's cat like senses immediately understood as _'harm'._

"Fang?" Cayden's voice echoed in the alley as two pairs of McGonagall green eyes peered in the direction of the sound. The dark haired witch shone her wand light into the narrow passageway, only to see the big black dog charging straight for them with a frightening rabid look in his eyes. Acting upon instinct, Minerva shoved her brother away, breaking their tight embrace an instant before Fang slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. Her hands were immediately on the dog's throat, struggling to keep his snapping jaws away from her face while trying to focus on her magic. A mere second later and the witch had thrown the dog back into the alley from which it came. Her heart was beating fast and hard, nearing panic, but that didn't stop her from wandlessly placing the dog into a full Body-Bind.

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_

The dog- who was almost up and ready to charge again -froze with his eyes still enraged, yet, this time Minerva could see an odd glaze she hadn't noticed before. For a moment there was silence as Cayden was still frozen in shock and Minerva steadied her racing heart. It did not help that her Animagus was a cat in this situation.

She looked over to her brother, who was still on the ground and staring at Fang with terror-filled eyes, then gingerly got up and made her way over to him.

"Are you all right?"

"W-why did Fang t-try to attack us?" Cayden sputtered as his arms clutched around his sister's waist. Minerva kissed his hair, holding the terrified boy yet again. Fang, despite his name and size, had _always_ been a gentle and loving dog. This beast was_ not_ the same young canine she had witnessed playing with her brothers and Hagrid over the past year. That Fang had been kind and gentle. This one, however, seemed to be a mad, terrorizing, bloodthirsty hound.

_What is Merlin's name is going on here? It's not like animals to change behavior like that!_

"I don't know, Cayd," she said softly, filling her voice with reassurance as she gently stroked his hair. "But I'm going to find out."

Shoving aside her confusion, the witch closed her eyes and conjured a Patronus to send to Malcom. When the witch looked back down she saw Cayden's big green eyes light up with what she perceived to be wonder and love. She told the mystical feline her message for the Ravenclaw, where they were and what had happened, then sent it off, but not without conjuring another mystical tabby to surround her little brother with. He could be so easily distracted sometimes- that was probably the _only_ way he differed from her.

Minerva let go of the boy, letting him be preoccupied with the Patronus, and walked over to the stone-sill dog. Kneeling down, she stared into the dog's glazed and anger filled eyes. The animal's pupils were dilated, and the irises were tinged yellow around the edges- so faintly that without having properly gazed into Fang's eyes before, she would have never seen it. She knew _exactly_ what this was, her Occlumency books touched on it quite a bit.

Fang had been Imperiused.

Suddenly, she felt the intuition to hide. It might have been Animagus related, she wasn't sure, but all she knew was that the feeling was there and it was_ very_ strong. In fact, it affected her so deeply that it caused the Patronus near Cayden to fade away. There was an sinister coldness to the air.

"M-Minvey?"

Instantly, she shut off the wand's light, grabbed her little brother, then dragged him into the shadows of the closed end passageway. He tried to speak, but she covered his mouth. Her mind was racing with powerful thoughts, urging him to stay silent and not move, and before the witch knew it, her subconscious had reached out and latched onto Cayden's fear. It melded and held strong. Next thing she knew, she was feeling his radiating emotions; intense fear and utter confusion. She had formed a connection with Cayden.

_Hush Cayd! Don't speak, do you hear me? Do **not** speak! Just think your thoughts, okay?_

To her partial surprise, but immense relief, the young wizard didn't let his shock over take him. _What's going on Minvey?_

She didn't answer him. _Just don't move and don't speak... Do that for me, all right?_

He could feel her own fear, combined with an intense focus that he didn't understand, and complied at once. Anything that could scare his sister meant the situation must be bad. _Very_ bad. While this entire experience was odd, and utterly brand new, when Minerva shut off her own feelings he knew instinctively what she was doing, almost as if they had done it a thousand times before. If Cayden was any other boy, he'd have wondered why this was so, but he wasn't. He was special, and he knew magic just worked around him as he pleased.

Yet, he was scared. So very scared. Both of them were. Minerva was having to shut off her thoughts about the Untergang being a threat. The atmosphere seemed to scream _murder,_ and the eerie glow of the dying sun being cast upon the clouds above didn't entirely help matters.

The fluttering of wings flying overhead alerted the dark haired witch to a rather large bird in the sky. She looked up, seeing a crow circling the skies. It swooped down onto the building, landing on the edge and peering into the alley. She could feel Cayden's heart beating so hard and fast that she was almost afraid the bird would hear it. Suddenly, the mirror in her pocket became very warm, but the witch didn't dare risk the bird hearing even the rustle of fabric. Already breathing through her nose, her Animagus traits picked up the bird's scent: bird, human and smoke. Her eyes became unprecedentedly hard as her grip on her wand- and Cayden- tightened. There was no doubt in her mind that the crow was an Animagus, _nor _that the witch or wizard was a member of the Untergang. All of a sudden, the Imperius curse made dreadful sense.

_It's a trap!_

The suspicious bird stayed on the building's edge for a moment or two, then hopped onto the opposite side, peering into the opposite wall of the alley. It looked around, and she could have sworn that her heart skipped a beat when it's gaze passed over her. The bird opened its wings and looked as though it was prepared to soar down upon her with malicious intent.

_**Bang! **_

There was a blinding light overhead and the bird combusted instantaneously- except, the spell hadn't come from her. Fear gripped the witch's heart for a moment as she heard new footsteps. She tried to smell who this new person was but it was no use, all she could detect was the light stench of the smoldering bird. Not even her awareness could pick up who it was.

She could feel Galatea frantically trying to summon her again, but she didn't dare risk the chance of distracting herself. Maneuvering Cayden behind her protectively, she aimed her wand towards the entrance and concentrated on controlling her breathing, drawing upon her training to help her. She wasn't going to have to protect just herself this time, she had her little brother to think about as well.

Minerva exchanged her wand with her sword after she quickly unsheathed it. The footsteps were getting closer and she silently cursed the fact that she couldn't see any shadows now. The sun had disappeared completely.

Suddenly there was visible movement and just as she was ready to flick her wand, familiar eyes came upon her gaze.

"Galatea!" she cried as all traces of battle tension faded away. With a flick of her wand, she illuminated the narrow passage with a gentle light- not that she or Galatea needed it, but because it made Cayden feel safer. The elder witch swore under her breath.

"Why, in Merlin's name, did you not answer my summons?" Her tone was very sharp, yet her pale blue eyes were a complete contradiction. They were soft, full of love and relief, as she quickly made her way towards Minerva's side. Her hands were shaking- not just from the fierce intensity of the crisis that had just been averted, but also from the physical struggle of deliberately forcing herself not to wrap her arms around the two McGonagall's. There was also struggling in the effort of preventing her voice from cracking. "I thought you had..."

"I'm sorry, Professor, I was afraid that if I tried to answer that the bird would hear the movement."

"Yes," the woman nodded slowly, blinking away her emotions, trying to steady herself. "Yes, of course, you are are right. That is highly understandable." She tilted her head to the side, peering at the young wizard that was clutching Minerva. "Are you two all right? Are you hurt?"

"He's fine." The green-eyed witch glanced at her brother, then back at Galatea. "Just a little shaken."

The boy nodded in agreement to his sister's words.

"Well, we can't blame him for that, can we?" The woman gently placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, then glanced sternly into Minerva's eyes. "And what about yourself, Miss McGonagall?"

To the girl's credit, she held the stare quite stubbornly. "I'll be fine once I figure out what the bloody hell is going on."

The woman breathed in deeply, then exhaled a deep sigh, yet, she didn't look away. Her crystal eyes silently pleaded for patience. "Let us get Mr McGonagall back to Madam Rominara, then we can _talk."_

"What about Fang?" Cayden piped up quietly with his lip trembling. "What's wrong with him?"

"He was under a spell, my dear. Hagrid will be here soon to take him home and Fang should be back to normal to play with you in the morning, I promise." Galatea flashed a small smile towards the boy. "Now, let us go."

Minerva flashed Galatea a partial look of confusion, wondering how the woman knew about the dog's affliction without being there, or looking into his eyes- but she kept that to herself for the time being. Her questions would just have to wait for later.

When they reached the Three Broomsticks, Madam Rominara was waiting for them. Her eyes were clouded with worry, but the moment she saw Cayden with the two dark-haired witches escorting him, they brightened up and she rushed towards them.

"For Merlin's sake, why did yeh all think it best to go runnin' after that ruddy dog? Yeh had me worried, Cayden!" the woman embraced the boy. "Yeh know yeh shouldn't be out there when it's pitch dark!"

"It was not his fault, Rominara."

"Oh? I wondered if somethin' happened, what with you _and_ Miss McGonagall here!" She pursed her lips in an agitated fashion. "What in Merlin's name is going on here, Professor? Mr McGonagall wouldn't say a word to me, he just ran off tryin' ter find Mr Hagrid! He looked quite frightened but he was rather stubborn about not speaking of what had happened."

"That is also my fault. Forgive the boy, I asked him to keep quiet about the incident."

The woman huffed, crossing her arms as she did. "I'm not goin' to get a straight answer out of yeh, am I?"

"Maybe tomorrow, Rominara, but right now I think it best for Cayden to get some sleep. He has had a rough night."

Madam Rominara pursed her lips and stared at Galatea almost in challenge- but then the young wizard yawned soundly and the woman sighed as she stole a glance at him and gave up her efforts. "Oh, all right then, but I better get an answer tomorrow. Come along, Cayden, let's get yeh in bed."

"Good night Minvey, I love you," the boy hugged his sister, standing on his tippy toes to kiss her cheek.

"I love you too, Cayd." She kissed him back.

"Goodbye, Professor," he waved at the elder witch, then started down the stairs towards his bunk with Madam Rominara following.

"Sweet boy," Galatea whispered, her eyes sparkling with affection and a smile faintly touching the corners of her lips. They began making their way back to Hogwarts in darkness as neither saw reason to use a wand-lighting charm considering they both had developed an integrated night vision. Besides, it attracted less attention, which was something they both desired at the current moment. They kept their voices near a whisper as they began conversing.

"How long have you been watching him, anyway?" Minerva asked, her green eyes glistening in the faint moonlight.

The elder witch raised a brow and her soft smile vanished. "Pardon?"

"You said that you've been watching _'us'_ during our last lesson, but I never asked when you started."

Galatea did not respond for a while. Her gaze avoiding the younger witch all together as she faced forward, staring at the castle. "I... have been watching all three of you since the moment you set foot into Hogwarts- or in Cayden's case, since he came to Hogsmeade."

The way the woman avoided her gaze made Minerva wonder if that was the real truth, but she didn't get a chance to query it.

"To answer your looming question," Both of them knew she was purely changing the subject, which was more apparent when her tone lowered, edged with an icy venom. "I knew Fang had been subjected to the Imperius curse because it is an Untergang specialty. By using an animal, they lure their _prey_ somewhere so they may be subjected into a brutal interrogation away from the public eye." The woman was fighting hard to keep her voice from cracking as images of the girl being tortured flashed before her eyes. The sounds of her imagined cries were bringing her close to tears. She let out a shuddering breath, stopping in her tracks to draw Minerva into a tight embrace.

"Keep that in mind the next time you see an animal acting strangely, darling," she said in barely a whisper, blinking rapidly to keep the moisture in her eyes from forming while finishing her sentence within her head. _Because I don't know what I would do if I lost you too..._

Having the girl in her arms was exactly what Galatea needed. She needed to feel the girl alive, with her heart beating and her lungs still breathing; to establish in her mind that the Untergang had _not_ got to her; that the enemy _had_ been stopped just in time; that she had _not_ failed in her duty to protect the green-eyed witch whom Galatea would- without digression, or second thought -give her life to save and protect. She hoped Minerva knew that, for she still could not bring herself to say it. Not yet.

They stayed like that for a few moments more, just purely taking comfort in the fact that they were in each other's arms- until Minerva could no longer keep her curiosity.

"That bird- er, Animagus, he was a member of the Untergang, wasn't he?" she asked.

The woman nodded gravely, her tone now reflecting the mood of the conversation. "He _was,_ and I thank the Gods he was acting alone."

"I could have handled myself..."

"Of _that_ I have no doubt. I know you would have done marvelously darling, do not mistake me on that. But had there been another follower with him when they tried to attack you, they would have known instantly who you are to them. One would have tried to get away while the other battled you. You would have rightfully thought about Cayden's well-being and stayed back to fight off the one attacking you."

"But you'd have gone after him."

Galatea sighed with a soft shake of her head, her eyes narrowing with confliction. "I do not know what I would have done. I may have, but I also may have put an end to your attacker- to make sure you and your brother were safe. Saving you at that current moment would have been more important- whether I was capable of doing so, or not."

"But none of that happened."

"No, none of it did, Merlin be praised." The woman pulled back from Minerva, cupping her chin, then kissed her forehead lightly. "Come, we should keep moving."

"How did you mask your scent and keep avoiding my magic's awareness?"

The woman smirked at this. She should have known that question would come up sooner or later. "A lesson for another time, I am afraid. Although, I will make sure to teach it to you soon."

Minerva pursed her lips. "Fine, but just tell me one thing, otherwise I won't be able to sleep tonight; if that Animagus was preying on me, then does the Untergang _know?"_

"They do not." Galatea's voice grew very dark and her fists clenched. "If he knew who you were beforehand, he would have tried to attack you before I had the chance to obliterate the feathered bastard. No, he was merely out to see what other students know. His victim could have been anyone, it was just coincidence that you were there and followed Fang into the alley."

While the fact that her identity was still hidden was wonderful news, the Gryffindor could not help but feel that the world was growing smaller and smaller, leaving little room for innocence to be preserved.

"Not even Hogsmeade is safe..." she let that thought linger for a moment. The air suddenly seemed colder as goose bumps trailed up her well-covered skin.

"I am afraid that nowhere is safe, my dear, not even the Room of Requirement if it came to it... although I dearly hope that never happens." Galatea cleared her throat, removing all traces of questionable fear and once more returning to the strong Professor Merrythought, a side which Minerva was growing to admire just as much as the woman behind the mask. "Now, you have Prefect duty tonight, do you not?"

Minerva's eyes shot up as she threw back her sleeve and peered at her wristwatch. It was a quarter to eight. She had time. Then again, she always had _time_.

"Yes, but I still have some questions-"

"Then they will have to wait until another time. You really should not be using your time turner more than you have to," the professor said as they neared the Transfiguration Courtyard. Her eyes narrowed as she looked around. Sensing no one, she let her tone soften. "I am afraid I shall have to leave you here, darling. I would rather not draw any more suspicion than there is already."

The green-eyed witch bobbed her head in agreement, hiding her disappointment, although she was unable to hide her partial worry.

Gently, Galatea cupped her cheek. Her soft blue eyes peered into her own, surrounding her with the feeling of reassurance around the young woman. "Stay safe, sweetheart, and please try not to worry. I will have someone watching over you tonight while you are out patrolling, so you will be just fine- and for Merlin's sake, answer my coded summons!"

Minerva nodded again, looking away from the elder witch's gaze. It didn't matter how much she told her to not not worry, she couldn't help but think about what had happened, the near-attack today had left her shaken.

"What about Cayden and Malcom?"

The woman sniffed, checking their surroundings before responding to the question. "Malcom, if he did what I told him too, will be either be in the Ravenclaw common room, or in his dormitory. As for Cayden, well, he's always being guarded. Now, I should be off to ensure that this never happens again."

But Minerva wasn't going to let her go just yet. She had to know what was going on and refuse to be cut off, left in the dark and treated like a child. She may not be of age- and many, _many_ years younger than Galatea -but when did she _ever_ let her age define how she was treated?

"And that entails what, Professor?" Minerva whispered, picking up footsteps in the distance.

The woman narrowed her eyes, hearing them as well. "I am hoping for surveillance around Hogsmeade, but we shall see." She straightened her back and held her head up high in a distinguished fashion, much more professor-like. Her voice reflected this, while still keeping quiet. "You best be off, Miss McGonagall, and for once in your life, do not go off investigating strange occurrences!"

Suddenly, the footsteps became frantic and were now destined to reach them in about half a minute. Both witches turned and ran towards the source, only for them to turn the corner and find a young, frightened Slytherin witch with long, jet black hair, who ran straight into them. Minerva tried to grab the girl's hand but she fell from the impact of the witch plowing past them.

"Merlin's beard!" The Gryffindor cursed, losing her footing and nearly tripping into Galatea. "Can _anything_ go right today?"

The woman placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her as they exchanged glances of bewilderment. "I'll handle this, Miss McGonagall. You go on to the Great Hall and report for Prefect duty."

There was no time to argue this, the woman was already leaving.

"Yes Ma'am," she said quietly, a little louder than a whisper, while watching Professor Merrythought hastily following the young girl- that was, until she heard a voice behind her tutting in disapproval, yet, amusement as well; a voice that was _always_ edged in ice and venom; and a voice that _always_ managed to make her skin crawl. Reacting upon her dislike towards him, on top of her shaky start to the evening, she turned around and flicked her wand, shining the light in the pair of dark eyes that were filled with malice.

"What are you doing here, Riddle? You don't have Prefect patrol."

"Well, it _is_ only eight fifty, _Minerva,"_ he sneered with a sinister smile that made her cringe inside. He started walking towards her at a steady pace, keeping eye contact with her the entire time. She found it strange that she could not pull herself away from his gaze, as if she was forcefully locked to stare into his eyes. They looked hungry, as if he intended to ravish her whole like a python yet at that same time they were unnaturally empty. Everything about him was an anomaly, a very _dark_ anomaly, like a gaping pit of evil. Yes, she went as far to say _'evil'_. Something wasn't right about him and she could never pinpoint what made her feel that way. Perhaps it was a combination of his love for manipulation and things pertaining to the dark arts. Remembering his mistreatment of Hagrid and her brother, anger once again boiled up inside her.

"I heard about your threat against Fang, and your continued harassment towards Hagrid."

The Slytherin smirked. "And?"

"I'm rather curious about why you're keeping raw meat in your bag."

"I'd stay out of such things, Minerva." His eyes narrowed with spite. "We wouldn't want an _accident_ to happen, now would we?"

"What do you mean?"

"All I'm saying, is that you should stick your abominably curious nose in a book- where it belongs -and mind your own business. Did I not hear Merrythought ordering you to _'stop investigating strange occurrences'_?"

"_That_ is between Professor Merrythought and myself." She kept her voice calm and eyes still, betraying nothing, even going as far as to place up her Occlumency barriers. "And if I were you, I'd stay out of _that_."

He stepped closer, his body only an inch away from hers. He was like a black hole, sucking all her emotions, seemingly wanting to devour her soul.

"But I'm already in it, don't you see?" he hissed in her ear. "I _know_ what you're up to with Merrythought, that she's training you for the Aurors. So, you mind telling me what happened with Fang_?"_

"Did you placed the Imperius curse upon him, Riddle?"

"No," he said with a victorious, simpering grin that made her insides churn and her knuckles go white as she clenched her fists. "but I know who did, and why he did it. Tell you what, _Minerva,_ you keep silent about my business, and I'll forget that you keep seeing Merrythought during untimely hours of the day."

At the moment, she was seriously contemplating stunning him and wiping his memory. Who knows, maybe it would prove good for the world one of these days...

"You can't keep me in line with fear or force, Riddle."

"Let me make myself clear, _Minerva;_ if you value your brothers lives, you do _not_ want me as your enemy."

She wanted to harm him. She wanted to physically strike him down. It was so tempting. He was threatening her brothers, her _family!_ Minerva McGonagall was _not_ a witch who gave into intimidation of any form, but the stakes were very high on this one. She wanted to yell at him that _he_ was the one that didn't want _her_ as his enemy. But there was more than just him to worry about, and if her suspicions were correct- which they generally were -Tom Riddle had something to do with the Chamber of Secrets.

It was clear to her what she had to do. She had to stay silent for a while. She did _not_ want the threat of the Untergang looming over her as well as that abominable Chamber business. She stayed quiet and did not look at him, indicating silently that she was giving into his threats- for the time being at least. Although she could not see his face, she knew he smiled- that wicked smile she had grown to despise.

"I thought you would see reason, _Minerva,"_ he whispered in her ear, his lips barely brushing her lobe. She wanted him off and away from her, feeling dreadfully violated by his presence and mere touch of his skin. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he walked past her, his shoulder violently connecting with her own.

For the first time in her life, she felt like the world was beginning to cave in beyond her control. She'd felt this feeling before, but never quite so overwhelming.

* * *

><p><strong>If anyone is interested, I actually did some research on that fortress Galatea was talking about: type in "Vladivostok Fortress Dungeons" into google and it should be the first link by vladivostoktimes. It's quite fascinating :D<strong>

**By the way, I shall let you all blame Spin for any despair caused by the end of this... I believe her exact words were "leave your readers in despair until the next chapter" lol! Love you Spin! ;)**

**~LinK**


	27. Compromising

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

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><p><strong>AN:**

**~With this chapter comes a ****change of rating!**** PoaG has now become 'Mature'.** I had originally planned on changing it a little bit before Minerva leaves Hogwarts, however, after writing this there is no escape from changing it...

**~Also:** I've a personal opinion that when ex-Aurors resign (and provided they haven't done anything unlawful) they get to keep their authority for when they encounter "pressing situations". Basically, once an Auror, always an Auror.  
>Also under this "also" tab, the Author is disappointed at you all. The Easter egg was <strong>"It's a trap!"<strong>- you know, from Admiral Ackbar from Star Wars Episode 6? … no?

**~Everyone should now give hugs to Spin!** While she caused you all despair with the last chapter, she unfortunately has to deal with an internal struggle daily. Spin literally has **all the answers **at her fingertips but deliberately restrains herself from accessing it to help me give you all a wonderful story! Much love my dear Spinney, Spin, Spin. **Much love** ;) And then reverse that love, cause she got to go on the Harry Potter Studio Tour! Haha, just kidding!

**~Spin's note:** Everyone should go to the Tour if they get the chance! It was absolutely, epically, fantastic! I only wish I could have gone with LinK and Em, and then we would have gone around each lot screaming together, rather than me draining my camera and phone batteries by taking pictures for them. :D However, does that mean Em deserves the beta credit for this chapter; all I did was bore them with details of everything I had seen. :-)

**~Side note: **Writing this while eating delicious Oreos was rather odd. Also, if it seems that this is one of those years where absolutely _nothing_ seems to go right... that's because it is. I was not nicknamed "Angst Queen" (or sorted into Slytherin) for nothing my dears! Enjoy :D

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><p><strong>Chapter 26 - Compromising<strong>

**October 10th, 1942:**

Despite it being a Saturday, Minerva found herself within Professor Dumbledore's office instead of Galatea's for some extra-curricular lessons. The elder witch had abruptly changed their plans yesterday, yet refused to give an answer as to why. Yet, she had been in the castle for most of the day, even supervising the Duelling Club. The green-eyed witch shrugged off her disappointment, reminding herself that she shouldn't be the center of the woman's personal life- despite what it felt like some days.

Her prowess within Occlumency was continuing to grow rapidly. This time, she managed to stall Professor Dumbledore for nearly fourteen minutes- which by that time, both of them had decided that it was enough for one day. They had chatted for a while, the conversation eventually leading Minerva to conclude that it was he who had kept watch over Cayden the night Fang had been _Imperiused_. When she thanked him for it, he humbly told her that her thanks was not necessary- which was just another example of Professor Dumbledore being the gentleman she knew him to be. Once again, he praised her abilities and reminded her to keep on her guard- worthy advice she certainly wasn't about to ignore.

With Occlumency lessons over for the day, the library was the a sanctuary she relished after such grueling lessons. While she only had about half an hour until the Library closed for the day, she decided it was better than going to the the Gryffindor common room. She had deliberately chosen not to inform Rolanda or Poppy of the incident with Untergang a few days ago- it would almost certainly make matters worse between all three of them, and quite honestly, Minerva did not want to split them apart more than they already were.

The tall witch picked out a book, intending only to read it if she found reading Quizzle's diary for the umpteenth time not fascinating enough, before sitting down to read.

"Hey, Minerva!"

The green-eyed witch tore her eyes from the book the moment she heard Pomona's voice, and looked up to see the Hufflepuff walking her way. She was carrying her latest flower in hand - a soft, white lily and her fellow housemate and friend, Hestia Jones, was with her as well. Minerva had had the pleasure of meeting Hestia several times before, and seemed to be a very loyal girl with a loving heart.

The dark haired Gryffindor smiled warmly. "Hello, Mona, a very pretty flower. I approve."

The Hufflepuff blushed, her hand subconsciously moved to stroke the delicate petals. "It is very pretty, isn't it?"

Hestia giggled. "If I didn't know any better, Mona, I'd say you rather like showing off your gifts."

Pomona blushed a deeper red and smiled softly. "Well, I have to have fun somehow! Besides, I have to tell my admirer how much I adore the flowers..."

"You still have no idea who it is?"

"Not a one!" Pomona sighed as she and Hestia sat down. "Although by now I've sort of given up trying to figure it out. Who ever it is must have plans to tell me eventually, and when that happens I'll be ready."

"Well, I hope you find out soon." Minerva shifted her gaze towards the other Hufflepuff. "It's good to see you again, Hestia."

"And you, Minerva. Pomona keeps telling me you're in over your head this year."

While the Gryffindor inwardly cringed, she outwardly let out a small huff of amusement. "In more ways than one, I'm afraid."

"What are you reading?" Hestia asked, peering at the leather spine.

"A diary Professor Dumbledore gave me, it's about the Merpeople and Sirens. Quite fascinating." She placed her Gryffindor bookmark inside. It was just one of the gifts Galatea had given to her for her birthday along with a scarf that was charmed to always be warm; several healing books that Minerva still had no time to read; and another book, this one about wolves- which had been intended as a joke.

'_Well, my dear, I figured that since you keep wanting to find out more about me, this would be an appropriate place to start,'_ the woman had said with a wicked smile on her face. It still made Minerva smirk with amusement just thinking about it.

She cleared her throat. "So, how are the Mandrakes coming along? Have they arrived yet?"

Pomona groaned and threw her hands in the air. "I don't understand what's taking the company so long to get them over here! Honestly, with the Chamber being a serious threat and all that, surely they would have already processed the order and be delivering it as fast as they can!" The witch let out a deeply troubled sigh and pressed a hand against her cheek. "On top of that, because of the war, all pre-made mandrake potions are being sent off to the continent!"

"Mona, you're stressing," Hestia kindly tried to soothe her friend as she began rubbing her back softly in comfort.

Pomona's distress slowly faded as she faced the other Hufflepuff, a soft smile curling her lips. "Always true to your word."

The witch shrugged. "You asked me to keep you from overwhelming yourself with emotions. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't keep true to that?"

"Good point."

The Librarian passed by, respectfully stopping at their table.

"Sorry, ladies, but I'm afraid we will be closing in a few minutes." Sir Shanks informed them. "If you have any books you wish to check out, put back or return, then please do so now, otherwise I must ask you to leave."

"Yes, Sir," the girls muttered softly and began gathering their things together.

"I have to put a book back, so you'll have to leave without me- but we should do this again when we have more time."

"I have to agree," Pomona winked with a smile. "Let me know if you need help in Herbology, or anything else to keep your head above water."

Minerva laughed softly, then said her goodbyes before moving back down the aisle to return her book to its place. Since her attack, she was always on the lookout and her green eyes flashed around every corner, looking for signs of trouble. Cautiously, she placed the book back and turned around just as the sensation of magic passed over her that silenced the echoing tap of her shoes against the stone floor. She whipped her head around towards the source, only to be greeted by the very wizard she did not want to see.

"Good evening, Minerva," Tom Riddle said softly, walking out of the shadows with a look of dark amusement that made her hands itch for her wand.

"What do you want?"

"Now now, no need to be so testy." His icy fingers unexpectedly came up near her face and brushed her cheek. Startled and revolted, she slapped his hand away, only for him to grab her wrist and pull her unnervingly close to him. She could feel his breath on her skin and it made her shudder involuntarily. "If I remember correctly, I had once informed you that you would regret not siding with me."

"We came to an agreement last night..."

"Not entirely." He backed her up against a bookshelf, his eyes were swirling with a look that made her blood turn cold. Every single sense in her body was telling her to fight her way out of this situation, but his hold was too strong. "I've come to make sure that you never forget my words from last night."

She was about to blast him away with a well-placed _'Ventus',_ but before her wrist could even twitch, a tainted magic coursed through her body and she found she couldn't move her legs. Her hands went limp for a moment, then - beyond her control - they caressed the vile wizard's cheek. This curse, it wasn't the Imperius curse, her mental barriers would have blocked it immediately. She didn't know _what_ it was. Riddle smirked with a devious smile on his lips and his eyes grew dark with an emotion that made her feel like he wanted to devour her.

"You despicable, loathsome git!" she shouted, despite knowing it wouldn't be heard. Her mind was racing, desperately trying to fight off the spell taking over her body.

"Scream and yell as much as you like, Minerva," he hissed in her ear. "I am the only one who will hear you. Now, behave like a good witch and I'll _consider _making sure your brothers are never harmed."

Unadulterated terror and hate pulsed through her as she continued to struggle against the curse. She didn't scream, it was useless, and there were no words that would help her situation. Suddenly his lips were pressed against her own, his fingers on her chin forcefully opening her mouth as his tongue darting inside with a disgustingly snake like fashion. His body was pressed against her, applying pressure that made her heart beat rapidly, skin flush, and temperature soar- to the point that she hated herself for reacting as such towards him. The spell was_ forcing_ her body to take pleasure from this!

His hands vulgarly wandered around her waist, tugging her against him, pulling her legs around his waist and pressing her center against his growing hardness. In that one movement he had every inch of body's hormonal desire screaming to let him take her. Minerva's hands were involuntarily tugging at his shirt as her body suddenly ignited a feeling of fire within that she had never felt before. Her emerald eyes flashed in horror as a new raging fury flowed through her veins. This had gone far enough.

It was time for Riddle to pay, and it was far past time to escape. A powerful surge of energy and magic sparked throughout her body as she focused her mind on the man shoving her skirt up several inches. A frightfully undesirable excitement coursed through her body as his cold, unwanted fingers slipped within her untouched folds.

That was a mistake for him. The relished, yet guilt stricken touch was all she needed to fuel her magic into existence.

"ENOUGH!" Minerva shouted, using her voice to exert a burst of raw, instinctual magic from her mind to attack Riddle. Instantly, the dreaded curse upon her body lifted, and all fake excitement and pleasure-filled emotions faded. Rough, cold hands were no longer violating her. She hadn't fully realized what she had done until she looked at the floor. Near her feet was a black weasel, clearly dazed and confused.

There was only one thing running through her mind as she left the bastard where he lay on the floor.

"_An Taigh na Galla ort,_ Tom Riddle!"

While the witch didn't know much Gaelic, just enough to get by with the few stubborn locals whom blatantly refused to switch to English, but she, like all the other people in Caluim knew how to insult someone.

A part of her wanted to cast the Gashing curse upon him- even if she didn't know what the incantation was -and leave him there to bleed to death after what he had just done to her, but she was in school and she would be expelled, and then probably tried for murder, so she settled with a mere Body-Bind curse. With a flick of her wrist, she inflicted the spell upon the weasel, then ran off- her eyes red, angry, yet disturbingly dry at the same time.

Minerva didn't really know where she was running to, but she somehow ended up in the Transfiguration Department. She was so furious that her hands were trembling. She dug her hand into her pocket and tapped her mirror three times. She waited a moment before tapping it again. Three was supposed to mean something close to death, but in this case, she didn't know what else to classify or communicate through the mirror. Images began flashing through her mind, the sensation of the vile Slytherin kissing her and violating her. She shook her head, but it was no use, she had to find a way to occupy her thoughts while she waited. Her shaky fingers trailed along the desks, the bookshelves and equipment, attempting to block out what Riddle had done to her. She couldn't figure out what was worse; that she had almost been raped- and forced to enjoy it -or that her first kiss had been stolen in such a manner.

_Stop it, Minerva! You're being silly, childish and irrational! _she yelled at her self. _It was just a kiss. By Riddle. Your first... Bloody hell, it hadn't even been out of affection! It was manipulation that turned into sexual assault!_

She felt like screaming. Minerva could feel her magic spark angrily once more and she took a deep breath before it could react. She was furious. Every girl has dreams of their first being with someone that made their heart flutter, their breath hitch, their stomach flutter. While she didn't freely admit it, the green eyed witch had those dreams too. Even as she stood in the dark classroom telling herself that it wasn't a big deal she knew that it really was, deep down inside, because now that dream was gone. Ripped from her heart by a wizard that made her shiver on the inside. Just thinking about his snake-like tongue darting into her mouth made her taste bile, then remembering his hand touching her below was nearly enough to bring her to her knees.

Her breathing became hard, almost as a sob, yet still no tears came. She couldn't decide what was more despicable, the fact that she could not properly cry after such a harrowing attack, or that she was letting Riddle affect her so strongly. Yet, it wasn't until a warm hand placed itself on her shoulder that she realized she wasn't alone.

"Miss McGonagall, whatever is the matter?"

"Merlin's beard!" Minerva jumped, spinning around to face the familiar man with a long auburn beard and twinkling blue eyes. Her face was flushed from her anger and her eyes were red from the aching emotional dryness. "F-Forgive me, Professor, I didn't mean to intrude..."

"You did no such thing, my dear," Dumbledore reassured her with a soft, but sad smile. Seeing her in such a state stirred a great deal of emotions within him. Yet again, he felt compelled to help her, just as he had upon discovering the tampered memory. "Now, tell me what has happened."

He had an odd feeling that this had nothing to do with the Untergang. He wasn't sure whether the alternative was worse though, considering the broken state she was in.

"Riddle... He tried to..." her voice failed her, becoming too quiet, then eventually words dropped all together. Minerva let out a shuddering breath as her hands continued to shake; she tried again, although it was still a whisper- albeit a very angry one. She told him about Riddle's threat against her brothers' lives, along with him saying that he knew who placed the Imperius curse upon Fang. At his confused look, she promptly explained that the reason she never told him, or Galatea, about this before was because she knew that neither of them could do anything more than the precautions they had already put in place. She recounted how she had gone to the Library and who had been waiting for her in the shadows until she was alone. Then finally, she informed him of the curse he that had been inflicted upon her body, of what Riddle had tried to do, and of how she stopped him while holding nothing back- not entirely caring at this point whether or not she was punished.

The dark haired Gryffindor watched as the twinkle in his eyes died while his expression went from shock to fear, and then evolved into a blazing fury that- beyond a doubt -_should_ have inspired fear within her. But it never did. For whatever the reason, Minerva could never be completely afraid of him. It was different with Galatea, the woman could inspire fear within her in a heartbeat- which was partially due to her training methods. But she could _never _be afraid of Dumbledore. Maybe it was because he'd been there with her so many times during so many situations that she knew he would never hurt her, or even criticize her for that matter. But that didn't make sense as Galatea, for the most part, acted the same way towards her.

When the auburn haired wizard finally opened his mouth to speak, his voice carried around the room in softly spoken words that seemed to wrap around her like a protective shield. She was so comfortable around him, even in her current state of distress and just hearing his voice made her shaking subside.

"My dear, I usually strictly condemn students who Transfigure each other, however, I believe that under the circumstances I should be condemning _him."_ Professor Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, despite his better judgement. He still wanted to do more for her, to comfort her like the friend she had become, however, that would be highly inappropriate, so he settled for words rather than actions. "Come, let's go into my personal rooms. I'll have my elf make you a cup of tea, and we can begin to sort this out."

She nodded without saying a word, merely just thankful for his kindness and compassion. She admired that about him just as much as he admired it about her.

"Make yourself at home," he muttered quietly to her, then called for his elf. "Mozart?"

There was a _**pop**_, and a slight disturbance of magic in the room as the elf appeared, but Minerva didn't pay attention. She wandered silently towards the window seat in the far left hand corner. Maybe it was her inner Animagus, but it looked a quite inviting place to be at the moment; somewhere she could just stare out of the window.

"Yes, Master?" the elf asked.

"If you could brew a strong Highland Heather tea for Miss McGonagall, please, and then find Professor Merrythought and ask her to come here."

"Of course, Master, Mozart is most happy to oblige!" With another _**pop**_, the elf was gone again, leaving the two alone once more. While Professor Dumbledore wanted to do something for the young woman, he wasn't sure what. He wanted to say something, anything, to take away the obvious pain she was feeling, but he didn't know what to say. What could be said to make something of this scale and interpersonal agony right again? He also had to remind himself that he was her teacher. In all honesty, she shouldn't even be in his personal rooms. Granted, she'd been in here before when Galatea had been attacked, but that was for an entirely different matter.

He watched how her green eyes gently flickered while watching the movement of the creatures outside, and noticed just how sullen they were. The sparkle in her eyes had been dulled.

An anger flared inside him like he hadn't experienced in a very long time, an anger that he was almost afraid of. He found himself wanting to physically punish Riddle, to make him pay for the ghastly, undignified and outrageous crime against his protegee. He blinked a few times.

_Protegee? Is that really what she is now? Yes. Yes she is._

Dumbledore sighed, looking upon Minerva. He felt guilty about what he was going, training her to take his place in a war he utterly refused to get involved in due to his past. He was afraid, not many knew, or believed, that he was capable of such feeling, but he was. He was very, very, afraid of what he would do when he saw Grindelwald again. He felt like a coward, and even worse, an manipulator for training this young woman into becoming and enduring what he refused to be. Sometimes he wondered if that was the reason he cared about her as much as he did, the guilt inside twisting his mind into wanting to do everything for her so she would be mentally, physically and magically prepared to take down the monster that had started this all.

Minerva was silently cursing herself. She had never felt such a build-up of emotions so tight within her chest. She couldn't understand why she couldn't just let it out, let the tears that she so desperately _wanted_ and _needed_ to feel spilling from her eyes and running down her cheeks in a river of sorrow. She felt so utterly out of place with herself. Despite Professor Dumbledore being in the room, she could not contain the awkward, dry, sobbing that suddenly escaped her throat when the feeling of Riddle touching her; the look in his eyes the devious smile on his face, all flashed within her mind once more. Her knees became weak again and she forced herself to sit down on the window seat's vibrant purple cushion, tuck her legs into her chest, in order to stem the feeling. The lump in her throat was becoming increasingly painful.

And now not even Dumbledore, whose heart was already aching at the sight of her distress, could stop himself from abiding by the rules between professional versus personal relationships as a teacher. He sat near her, wrapping his arms around her gently, slightly confused as of why he had yet to see a single tear being shed. He knew she was a very strong, resilient and brave young woman, but even he- the great Albus Dumbledore -had moments where tears could not be kept from his eyes. If there was ever a moment where someone _should_ have cried, it was now, especially in the state that she was in. He'd have to ask Galatea about that later, after he dealt with Riddle.

"It's all right, Minerva," the professor whispered quietly while silently damning himself. Nothing in her life seemed _'all right'_ except for Galatea and her sisters- which even the latter, he'd seen, seemed to be breaking apart. Why it was that tragedy tended to be thrown at the good people who didn't deserve it over and over again, he would never understand. "You're safe, my dear."

"I know," she whispered shakily. She hated this, feeling vulnerable. "I'm sorry, I don't..."

"Minerva, you have _nothing_ to be sorry for. If anything, I should be sorry. The trust and safety that Hogwarts openly gives, has been shattered."

The young woman didn't know what to say to that. He was right, but at the same time he wasn't as, despite what had occurred, she still felt that Hogwarts was more of a home to her than the Manor.

"Would you care to talk to Professor Merrythought?" he asked her, quite sure she would agree. He didn't just suggest it because he knew the elder witch would cheer the solemn witch, but because he knew he shouldn't leave her alone in her current state.

Minerva's emerald eyes brightened very slightly at the prospect, which was all he really needed to know. Gently bobbing her head, her eyes glazed over as she became lost once again. Had the witch been in the right state of mind, she might have wondered why Galatea had yet to contact her.

Another _**pop**_ occurred into the room as Mozart came back into the room, extending the small tray with a fresh, steaming cup of tea.

"Here you go, Miss," he said gently. For a moment, the witch appeared to not have heard him at all, and the elf was about to politely speak up again, when she finally turned her head and whispered a soft 'thank you'. Gently, she took the steaming cup of tea and took a sip, not entirely caring how much it scolded her tongue. The elf's ears drooped sadly in defeat, not knowing what else to do, then banished the tray.

"Um, Master," he whispered, "C-Could Mozart speak to you in private, Sir?"

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed in a bit of confusion, trying to find a reason why the elf wished such a thing, but he agreed nevertheless. Letting go of Miss McGonagall, they stepped away towards the far side of the room; even though he was quite sure that Minerva wouldn't be able to focus on what they were saying in her current state.

"What is it, Mozart?"

"Er- um... well you see, Sir, Mozart has tried very hard to find Professor Merrythought, but he is not finding her. She's not in the castle or in Hogsmeade, Sir, and we house-elves are not supposed to go outside borders unless told so. But Mozart found Madam Nurix, Sir! She informed him that Professor Merrythought is out of the castle on Ministry business. She then asked him to tell her why you be needing Professor Merrythought. But Mozart didn't tell her anything, Sir, as Master usually doesn't want anything be said about your doings... but..."

The poor elf was fidgeting and twirling his fingers with needed nervousness. He'd been assigned to Professor Dumbledore since he came here twenty five years ago, and by now he knew that his master insisted on no punishment, but he still never knew what he should do with himself if he did something wrong.

"Ah, yes, I understand. It's quite all right, Mozart." He narrowed his eyes. "Could you retrieve Madam Nurix instead then? Please, take her to my office, and tell her that I will be there to meet her soon."

With another _**pop**_, the elf was gone. Professor Dumbledore sighed, his mind reeling with where Galatea could have possibly gone as she had not been absent for her classes today..._ and what classified as 'Ministry Business'?_ He shook his head. He'd just have to wait to find out. The thing was, Albus rather detested waiting. He could advise patience like no other, but he would feel like a hypocrite every time he called asked for it.

Minerva was staring out the window with cloudy green eyes as the recent horrific memories flashing before her. She hadn't heard a word of the conversation, instead, she was just desperately trying not to break down again.

"Minerva?"

His hand touched her shoulder, causing Minerva's heart to flutter with a hint of warmth that gave her the sense of security she needed.

"I want you to wait here, I shall be off to deal with Mr Riddle. You shall not be punished for this, I promise. Please keep this in mind that if he _ever_ troubles you, even the slightest way, inform me, and I'll have him expelled within two days- despite what the Headmaster and the Slytherin biased Governors have to say about that." The professor shook his head in disgust.

Minerva simply nodded, not entirely believing him, causing Dumbledore to lift her chin very slightly. He wanted her to realize just how much he meant those words, if anything to help mend the sense of security that had been shattered.

"I am very serious, Miss McGonagall. A young, bright and brilliant young woman, such as yourself, should _never _have to deal with bastards like him."

Dumbledore's words were comforting to her- more so than usual- yet, she still couldn't pinpoint exactly why though. He was her mentor, and she was used to him calling her by her first name during distressing moments like these, so why did her heart seemed to flutter softly when he said her name? It felt right somehow, even though she knew it shouldn't. It was unusual for a professor and a student to be this close, although as she thought about it, Minerva realised that she was ever so thankful to have that friendship.

"Thank you, Professor," she managed a small, quick smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

"It's no trouble, my dear. I will be back."

He was gone for just a few minutes, yet, when the door opened it was neither Galatea, or Dumbledore, that stepped into the room. Minerva's heart dropped a little. It was the generally stern and composed Madam Nurix, although her grey eyes were absorbed with a peculiar expression that was more powerful than concern.

"Sorry, I'm not who you expected, I know, but Galatea's out right now and Professor Dumbledore would rather you not be left alone. Something I wholeheartedly agree with."

"I- um, thank you, Madam." The dark haired witch wrapped her arms around her middle and subconsciously pulled her knees closer to her.

"Minerva," the woman licked her lips. It had been a long time since she had said the young witch's name, and what was worse, the girl didn't even remember it. Due to that, Helena wasn't entirely sure how the dark haired witch would take towards the matron- a person she hardly knew -speaking to her on such a personal level, however, her mind was the center of far too many mixed emotions for her to care. "I know I'm not Galatea- and that we are not very close -but if you need to talk, I'm here to listen."

The Gryffindor slowly bobbed her head, but stayed silent. Helena pursed her lips, knowing exactly what was going through the young woman's mind, and wondered what kind of healer she would be if she didn't try to put a stop to it? With her typical grace, the woman sat in the chair opposite Minerva.

"Silence isn't good for the soul, dear," Madam Nurix said in a clear, soothing tone while lifting the girl's chin. "It causes dwellings upon the event, and depression begins to form within that."

"H-how much did Professor Dumbledore tell you?"

"Enough to know that I am relieved beyond words to hear that you got away when you did," the matron's grey eyes darkened with what appeared to be anguish, as she shook her head absently, "especially at your age."

The dark haired witch tilted her head to the side, allowing her curiosity to fill her mind. It was better than dwelling. "Correct me if I'm wrong, and forgive me for asking, but are you speaking from experience?"

Helena closed her eyes for a moment as she swallowed. When she spoke, it was very soft, almost in a whisper. "I do. I was thirty five, the acclaimed Head Matron of Hogwarts and the renowned witch for finding the cure for Scrofungulus and Corvita Infants Syndrome. I was in Diagon Alley to meet with Galatea for a bit of celebration, when _he_ showed up... I have never forgotten that feeling of utter helplessness."

A moment of silence parted between them with neither sure what to say, although Minerva- determined to follow the healer's advice of avoiding silence -spoke up, her voice still very quiet. While she wanted to ask the woman who had done such a thing, she settled for a less invasive question, keeping in mind that she probably wouldn't want such question being asked of her in such a fashion had their positions been switched. "How did you handle it, the aftermath of it all? Coming to terms with... with being violated, being raped?"

The Head Matron took in a deep breath. Minerva could tell she was struggling to speak of the memory, it was clearly something she hardly ever talked about, which was highly understandable. She got the feeling that if it she hadn't earned the woman's respect by helping Galatea, Helena would not be speaking of such things, not even to another student in the same situation.

"Well," she paused, her lips forming a frown, "to be honest, I was too exhausted and traumatized to do anything. I don't remember much of what happened afterwards, so if anything, Galatea 'handled'_ it."_

"What did she do?"

The woman pursed her lips. "I'm not entirely sure of the specifics, but what I do know is that she went after him and sent him to Azkaban for his crimes against me."

Minerva tilted her head in surprise. While she had known Galatea was very close to the woman, this new information made the pieces much more clear. "She didn't kill him?"

"Oh, she contemplated it, I have no doubt about that. However, your... who is she to you these days, anyhow? Your mentor, friend, professor...?"

The dark haired witch smiled softly. "Well, in her words, she's my guardian."

Helena's expression seemed to brighten with those words as a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "Very well, your '_guardian'_, being a former Auror, could have done _anything_ to him and it would have been justified, but in the end she rationalized that the man deserved to suffer for the rest of his days instead of a quick and painless death. Galatea was instrumental to my recovery, per se. But as for how _I_ handled it; I kept close to my loved ones for a while, let myself know that I was safe, that I wasn't going be harmed any more. Absorb yourself into that feeling when you begin to feel lost, and just talk. It doesn't matter what about, just as long as you keep talking concentrating on the now, instead of the past."

Minerva looked into those grey eyes that were holding so many emotions, and she wondered if there was something else hiding behind them. She could have sworn she saw a spark of love flicker through the matron's eyes.

"It's not going to go away, is it? The sense that you've been violated..."

"It takes a while, but eventually the feeling dulls, and having special people around you helps more than words can. But no, it never completely leaves you."

The matron extended a hand, placing it over the Gryffindor's. "If you ever feel the need to talk about this in the future, I.. I may not have talked about such matters in a while, but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to."

Minerva replied with a mutual smile. "Thank you, Madam."

As Helena opened her mouth to speak, her grey eyes hinting at something Minerva couldn't quite grasp, the door opened, revealing a worried Rolanda and Poppy.

"Min!" they cried out, their faces immediately changing from horrified fear to joyful relief as they came to her side.

"Are you all right?" Poppy cupped her face, her worried hazel eyes searching for an answer. Despite being in a much happier mood than they had felt before, here within her sister's green eyes, was hurt and devastation like she'd never seen before.

"We felt..." Rolanda's voice drifted as her shoulders hunched and she shuddered. "I don't know what to call _that."_

"Violated?" Minerva muttered quietly, looking at the ground.

"Yes! Violated is a good word for that..." Rolanda's gold eyes narrowed as she frowned, "...except not, as well."

"Min," Poppy's honey glazed voice was cautious, but also filled with concern. "What happened to you? Was it Untergang? Please, _don't_ tell me it was Untergang..."

Minerva shook her head, and while she was about to speak, she was grateful that the Head Matron beat her to it.

"Unless Tom Riddle is a part of a wretched shadow group, then no, the Untergang had no involvement over_ this._" The woman paused for a moment, her grey eyes swirling with anger. "Riddle attempted to subject Minerva into rape."

There was a moment of silence as the two newcomers processed the information before their magic seemed to ignite around them. The air crackled between them, although Rolanda's seemed to be the more violent source of the two.

"I'm going to kill him," Rolanda said vehemently. "I'm going to knock that slithery bastard off his broom, send several harsh curses his way, and kill him!"

Poppy was about to open her mouth and negate her sister's words, when Helena scoffed all Gryffindor eyes turned towards her.

"Let's see if he survives Professor Dumbledore, and then whether or not he survives the night after Professor Merrythought gets word of this, first before you go off on Riddle." Helena cautioned. "Believe me when I say this, she will not stand idly after what _he_ had done, and I believe her reaction will be quite similar to yours Miss Hooch, perhaps even a little stronger. The Headmaster will have an earful if he chooses not to expel Riddle."

It was obvious to Minerva that the woman was holding back the words she wanted in favour of some that were more appropriate. No doubt having worked in her profession for so long Madam Nurix had a rather tight control over her emotions, something that was highly commendable.

The dark haired witch decided to change the topic. "When should Galatea be back?"

Helena looked at the clock. "Give her about two hours and she'll be storming the gates. I informed her myself, although I think she already knew something was wrong."

"Where is she?"

"Ministry business."

Minerva's green eyes narrowed. She didn't buy a word of that. "So far away that she'd take two hours to get here?"

Helena shrugged. "I don't know for certain where she's gone, but I believe she went to Novosibirsk, Russia."

"But Untergang is there!" The green-eyed witch's heart hitched as she said those words.

"And far more than that, I'm afraid," the matron said rather abruptly. There was hint of fear swirling within her grey eyes along with something else, that Minerva was unable to distinguish.

Poppy pursed her lips. "Well for Goodness sake, Professor Merrythoughts's more reckless than you, Rola!"

Suddenly, there was a soft thud the vibrated into the room. It was distant, most likely from the Transfiguration classroom and the source must have been quite violent for it to have been carried over such a distance. Yet, it seemed that Minerva was the only one able to hear it.

"Hmph!" the hawk-eyed witch smirked. "So, it would seem I have competition then!"

"Shh!" the dark haired witch hissed as she strained to listen. She waved two fingers towards the door to open it just a crack then began stepping very lightly towards the door.

"Not another word, Tom Riddle..." It was Professor Dumbledore, as she had correctly predicted, and he sounded positively furious. He, and the Slytherin, were without a doubt in the classroom, and considering how muffled the sounds were, the office door must have been closed. The dark haired witch knew her sister's and the Head Matron probably wouldn't be able to hear the conversation.

"I _never_ want to hear about the way you treated Miss McGonagall, _ever_ again. Do you understand me?"

"She ran to you, scared?" Just hearing Riddle's voice, was enough to make her shiver again.

"What is it, Miss McGonagall?" Helena whispered. Minerva waved her hand for silence as Riddle's disgusting voice continued.

"...I did nothing to-"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Dumbledore bellowed. The dark haired witch could easily imagine just how terrifying the Transfiguration Professor, and Deputy Headmaster was at this current moment. She hoped the Slytherin was shaking in his boots.

"Yes, _Sir,"_ Riddle hissed. There was a brief pause, then a faint sound of feet landing back on the floor.

"You will no longer attend my Animagus class and one hundred thirty points will be taken from Slytherin for your actions. I shall also be having a word to Professor Slughorn in regards of your actions as well."

Neither wizard said anything further, their footsteps parted and went in opposite directions. Minerva closed the door, blinking a few times as her exhaustion started to overcome her.

"Well?" Rolanda prompted.

"It's nothing, just Professor Dumbledore scolding Riddle." She covered her mouth as a yawn overcame her.

"I think it's time for you to get some rest, Miss McGonagall, you've had quite a day. You'll be with me tonight." The matron sent her a bit of a glare, calling for no argument on the subject, one which Minerva understood the meaning behind. This was not just for her own sake, but Galatea's as well. Neither witch wanted to know exactly what the Defence Against the Dark Art professor would do if she was unable to see her beloved pupil.

_There'd be no stopping her from hunting down Riddle, that's for sure_... Minerva reasoned.

"But-" Rolanda started, but was cut off by Poppy's elbow, who then shook her head at the hawk eyed witch, communicating a _'not now'_ thought.

"It's all right, Rola," Minerva assured. "I'll see you two in the morning?"

"You can bet your whiskers on that." Rolanda's golden eyes burned with compassion.

Poppy chuckled as she drew both her sisters into a warm, much needed hug. They'd been through too much this year already. When the two drew away, saying their farewells before Flooing back to the Gryffindor common room. Minerva could not help but feel that a small part of her scarred heart was beginning to heal knowing that her sisters were there for her, and that they had managed to refrain from fighting the whole time they had been there. She hoped that if anything good could come from this, it would be that the two would put their differences regarding Mikail for the sake of their friendship.

"Come along, dear," Helena ushered softly. "We'll be going to Galatea's office."

The dark haired witch's eyes narrowed, she had assumed they'd be heading to the Hospital Wing, if not the Head Matron's office. "Why not your own?"

The woman blinked owlishly. When she opened her eyes, however, the eyes betrayed nothing regarding her thoughts. There was no compassion, nor a sense of emotion within them, which Minerva found to be mildly curious. "Because you'll be more comfortable and relaxed in her rooms, which is what you need at the current moment. Now off you go, dear, we haven't got all night."

With a slight frown, Minerva reluctantly stepped into the fireplace traveling through the Floo network, with Helena following close behind her.

What Helena had said was true. Just being in Galatea's office and personal rooms again made her feel safe and secure. Closing her eyes, absorbed the feeling that the room offered her. She could pick up the light aroma of peppermint in the air; that alone bringing a calmness into her mind. There was something about the elder witch's rooms that made it easier to do so, not even Professor Dumbledore's rooms produced feelings that were close to this.

The matron smiled softly at the young Gryffindor, remembering the event so many years ago when those innocent, green eyes had wandered around these same rooms. Yet, remembering why they were here, her smile vanished. Such innocence had been lost today. The pang in her heart returned, but she suppressed it, knowing she could not falter or give reason for the Gryffindor to start asking questions.

She showed Minerva the already prepared guest room, the girl's nightgown and robe already on the bed, along with a delightful, mewing surprise that bounced off the bed, running to greet them.

"Mico!" the Gryffindor swiftly picked up the purring, brown feline. His motor was running very loudly within her ear as he began to rub his head against his owner's face. She giggled and pecked him on the nose. "How did you get here, boy?"

"I had the elves bring him along, figured you could use some normal company tonight."

"Thank you, Madam."

The healer nodded in acknowledgement. "Now, there's a potion I wish you to take before you go to sleep. It's a dreamless sleeping draught."

Minerva's happiness seemed to shatter as a bit of fear rose in her mind. "D-Did you have nightmares as well?"

Helena nodded gravely. "It is unfortunately common. For us magic folk, if left untreated, it can cause a grueling nightmarish insomnia rather easily. I personally never went to bed without them for several weeks." She cleared her throat, likely wanting to take the subject away from her personal experiences. "I'll make sure to have a few for you to use in your dormitory by tomorrow if you feel the need for them in the future. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

The green eyed witch stifled another yawn with her free hand, then shook her head tiredly. "I don't think so."

"Very well then. I'll be in the room near by, just down the hall if you change your mind."

"Good night, Madam."

The healer hesitated, her hand on the door handle. There was something brewing in her eyes as she turned her head gently over her shoulder and spoke three seemingly simple words, "Good night, Minerva," then closed the door behind her as she left.

Mico let out a soft, concerned trill and pressed a paw against her cheek. The dark haired witch frowned, her mind swirling with thoughts regarding the woman. There was so much she didn't know about the Head Matron. For starters, how much she knew of the misty past between Isobel and Galatea. From the conversation that Poppy had overheard, it seemed that she knew far more than she let other's believe. She had, after all, claimed that Mrs McGonagall's intentions were being tainted by her 'goals'- whatever they were. It would also appear that the woman held a great deal of hate towards Isobel for causing Galatea such heartbreak.

Just remembering the anguish within the Helena's words, the spite and agony, made her heart lurch. She made a mental note to figure out just how much her mother had destroyed her guardian's life. That night, Minerva went to sleep a bit of burning hatred in her heart, not just for Riddle, but for her mother as well. No one deserved to be pushed aside like an animal.

* * *

><p>When Poppy and Rolanda entered the Common Room from the Floo, they had gotten some rather odd looks. No student was allowed to use the Floo network within Hogwarts unless otherwise stated by a professor.<p>

"What?" Rolanda glared at the other students. "We had permission. So unless we have soot on our face and you'd like to point it out, look elsewhere!"

Poppy held back a laugh. It was good to be sisters 'again'. If both were honest, they had missed being able to talk with one another without bickering.

"Rola!" Augusta shouted, leaping from the chair she was in- sending a poor, sleeping Oscar to the floor -and ran over to them. "Merlin's beard, what happened? Where's Minerva? Mona's in a fret, she thinks something dreadful happened. A hundred and thirty points were taken from Slytherin and no one knows why! Kevin and Mikail went out to investigate, and they should be back soon, but other than that-"

"Oh Gusta, settle down!" Poppy hissed quietly. "Where's Mona?"

"She was in the greenhouse, but it's getting dark, so I'm sure she headed back to her common room with Hestia by now. Oh, and she got another flower!"

"Er... yes, that's wonderful, Gusta- but completely irrelevant!" the apprentice healer said with a hint of spite edged to her voice. Her eyes were a little glazed with either anger or hurt. The hawk-eyed witch assumed it to be a bit of both, considering the events of the day, and pulled the blonde haired Gryffindor a bit closer.

"Gusta, those docked points from Slytherin was probably the punishment that Dumbledore gave Riddle for trying to rape Minerva."

Augusta gasped, her eyes widening with shock, causing a few more stares to be shot their way. The blonde haired witch lowered her voice into a very sharp whisper. "Is... is she... did he..."

"Apparently not. Minerva got away before things went... _'too far'."_

"Thank Merlin... Oh Mikail and Kevin will want to murder him for this!" Poppy scoffed at the mention of the Russian wizard. "Look, I don't trust him entirely either, Poppy, but Mikail really did seem concerned."

The apprentice healer sighed, holding up her hands. "Please, I'd rather not talk about him. I don't want to fight right now."

"A change of heart, dear sister?" The hawk-eyed witch raised a brow.

Poppy went quiet for a moment, yet when she spoke up, her honey glazed voiced which had seemed to be long gone had returned. "You know the saying, 'The enemy of my enemy is a friend?'"

Both girls narrowed their eyes, trying to see what she was getting at. "Yes..."

"While I still don't trust Lutrov, I think I can manage to be less abrasive around him- or at least when I'm not alone with him. We need to be focusing more on Minerva, especially after tonight."

The hawk-eyed witch bobbed her head in agreement. "You're right, and I guess I can keep a more cautious outlook. Like Min said, we really don't know for sure who to trust. I'll do my best to keep caution with my words and actions around him until we finally figure out what side he's on."

"So, does this mean you two will stop bickering every meal time?" Augusta's blue-green eyes flickered with hope as Poppy flashed Rolanda a mischievous smile.

"Well, as long as she stays away from the sweets, I think I can manage that."

* * *

><p><strong>I wish to inform you all as of how extremely difficult it has been not to write <em>any <em>MMADness. Dumbledore, you are killing me! On that note, much applause to Spin and Em on this one :D I love you dearies!  
><strong>

**Next Chapter: Righto, remember those tampered memories? They haven't been forgotten!**

**~LinK  
><strong>


	28. ReAnalyzing

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**~I have absolutely and positively spoiled all of you these past 7 chapters.** They've been over 8k, so please don't be too mad at this being (what used to be) my "average" chapter length lol! Anyway, this one happened unintentionally, although I think the contents alone make up for it :D (I feel like I should put an Angst Warning up here... just for the record.)

**~I love you all, I really do;** my Betas (obviously!), my readers for being "patient" and my wonderful,_ wonderful _reviewers! All of you simply make my day and keep me running! Every time I'm nervous about a chapter I get extremely warm responses. So give yourself big giant hugs people! I'd give them myself, but that's a tad problematic haha ;)  
>And thank you to those who are thanking<strong> Em<strong> and** Spin** in your reviews as well! They really deserve it, putting up with me, internet troubles and all :P

**Spin's note:** We truly do deserve it! She's a real slave master and so horrible to us to boot! I kid, I kid! :P  
><strong>Author's retort: <strong>Hmph! It's not _my_ fault this story holds you two hostage! :P

**~On that note:** Merlin's pants, PoaG has now reached 200k. What is this (m)madness?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 27 ~ Re-Analyzing<strong>

**October 11th, 1942:**

Minerva awoke with a little bit of a start. First of all, she was in Galatea's personal rooms; secondly, she must have been in a very deep sleep as she hadn't been awakened by Professor Merrythought walking into the room earlier; and lastly, she remembered the events of yesterday as images flashed through her mind, almost like a Legilimency experience. Needless to say, she sat up abruptly with a gasp.

Strong, comforting, warm arms wrapped around her as a soothing, familiar voice washed over her senses. "Shh, I am here, sweetheart."

"Oh gods, Galatea, you're back!"

"Of course I am back." The woman kissed her head then gently moved the stray locks of hair away from her forehead. She cupped Minerva's face with her heart soaring with the deep and powerful affection that the younger witch was still not entirely sure where it came from. "I am here, darling, and I am not going anywhere."

Minerva bit her lip for a moment before she simply just wrapped her arms around Galatea and buried her head against the woman's chest as she released a shuddering breath of relief, happiness, and yet a loss of innocence all together. Again, the professor embraced embraced her, holding her gently in her arms. This felt _too_ right somehow, but Minerva couldn't piece together exactly why.

"Everything is all right now, sweetheart."

"I know, Galatea, I just..." she sighed and took a deep breath, breathing in a faint scent of peppermint mingled with the woman's own, effectively calming herself in the process. There were a few questions burning in the back of her mind left over from yesterday, yet, she was almost afraid to ask. "What happened when you came back?"

"Ah, I think perhaps I should just say this; if I had not seen you when I did, I do not think even Helena would have been able to stop me. _No-one_ messes with those which I care about and generally live to tell the tale."

In other words, Riddle would not have lived past dawn. The Defensive Arts professor was already furious with Armando's unreasonable biased-mindset towards Slytherins. After last year's Banshee incident, it was obvious that the stubborn, old wizard would not be expelling Riddle for his crimes- especially considering Minerva had got away. '_No harm, no foul'_ is what the Headmaster would have said, and Galatea would have been forced to leave the room before she hexed the man for the next century.

"Besides which," the woman continued, "I have plans for _Riddle._ Non-lethal, but nevertheless, set to assure your protection. _He _knows too much..." she shook her head. "But never you mind about that. How are you, darling, really?"

Minerva looked up at the woman, her green eyes glimmering. "I'll be all right, I think, in the long run."

Galatea smiled softly. "You, my dear, are a very strong witch and you will get through this. I have utmost confidence in you."

The Gryffindor nodded her head, silently noting that they had distinctly drifted topics. If there was something both women did not enjoy, it was their personal lives being interrogated, which led Minerva to another thought. "Why were you in Russia?"

The elder witch sniffed, she had not expected Minerva to know where she had gone. The only possible explanation was that Helena had leaked it. She'd have to talk to the Matron about _that_ later. "Ministry business."

"That doesn't explain what you were doing though. _Russia, _Galatea, _of all places!_ The Untergang is there, for Merlin's sake!"

The woman went silent for a moment as she looked away, causing Minerva to wonder if she might have been too harsh, but she quickly dismissed that thought. Galatea wouldn't have looked hurt if that were true, her eyes would have lit with an inner fire instead of glazing over with a sadness that made her want to clutch her aching heart.

"The harsh irony of it all is that I had gone there to secure your safety," the woman's voice cracked, dropping into a very weary calmness. Her eyes became clouded with tortuous emotions as she began to furiously blink back tears. It seemed that fate continued to test her in the cruelest ways possible. "I am _so_ sorry, Minerva, I should have been here..."

"Don't be," the Gryffindor had spoke in such a gentle and forgiving nature that the elder witch actually trembled. "Please, Galatea, don't beat up yourself over this. It wasn't your fault, you couldn't have known."

"I know, Minerva, but-" the woman stopped herself, closing her eyes and biting her lip. Her grip on the Gryffindor's upper arms tightened for a few moments as she took a deep breath, emptying her mind of the intense emotions within her to prevent a slip-up. "I am your_ guardian,_ Minerva, and I am also your teacher. I am supposed to protect you and that did not happen."

"Oh don't go on giving that speech _again,_ Galatea," a stern, but rather carrying voice said. Minerva glanced towards the corner of the room, seeing Helena walking through the door. "I think I myself have told you _far_ too many times; do not feel guilty over things you do not have any control over."

The elder witch turned her head, sending a passing glare at the healer. "And I think _you_ know that- _no matter how many times you say it_ -I will not, and cannot stop feeling such things."

"An impossible witch you are, the both of you it seems." The head matron clicked her tongue, shook her head, then turned her attention towards Minerva. "Poppy has asked me to inform you that 'they' will be waiting for you in the Transfiguration Courtyard whenever you wake up."

"Oi! What is the time?"

Galatea glanced at her wristwatch. "It is only eight thirty, darling-"

"Eight thirty!"

"It _is_ a Sunday, dear, and you were sleeping quite peacefully. I didn't want to disturb you."

Minerva pursed her lips with a bit of amusement sparkling in her green eyes. "While I immensely appreciate it, Galatea, I think I've slept in a bit too much this year as it is."

The elder witch chuckled. "That, I shall agree with."

* * *

><p>Minerva was walking down the corridors towards the Transfiguration Department when she saw <em>it-<em> the ungrateful brown messenger owl with white speckles and unruly golden eyes -flying above and towards the owlery's entrance.

Subconsciously, she brandished her wand as the anger from last night brewed into her mind once more. That abominable bird was about to cause trouble with a new letter, she could feel it. But with what sort of information, that was the question. Minerva internally groaned, remembering that Professor Dumbledore had said he would be talking to Professor Slughorn last night about Riddle.

Her eyes went dark. No. Her mother wasn't going to hear of that- if anything to prevent her father from getting wind of it. Minerva could hear him already, cursing slander he had probably not used for two decades if not more.

_Poppy? Rola?_

_Min, you're awake!_

_Did you get my message from Helena?_

Minerva began moving into a partially secluded archway, where she was quite sure Riddle was not lurking about. _Yes, Madam Nurix delivered... I'm actually in the courtyard at the moment-_

_You are? Where?_ Rolanda's hyperactive thoughts burst through.

_-so, if you see a cat sprinting across in a few minutes, pretend that it's not me._

_What? Why?_ Poppy demanded this time.

_Toby._

The feeling of mutual understanding and ferocity swarmed their connection. Suddenly, the bird flew out, carrying the expected letter with him. Instantly, Minerva transformed and her tabby self was dashing after it. With all her strength and willpower, she pushed herself harder and faster as she ran down the hill, towards the Magical Creatures grounds. She had to thwart her mother's attempts at gaining more knowledge, if anything, to prevent Galatea from undertaking more pain than what she had already experienced.

Now within the thicket, Minerva sprang up, returning to her original form as she did, with her wand pointed directly at the nosy, treacherous bird.

"_Accio letter!"_

Barely a second passed before the envelope connecting into her open palm. Toby let out a screeching, angry cry from his beak, then swooped down, his wings prepared to attack.

"Ruddy foul," Minerva muttered as she fired a stunner. The bird dropped to the ground with a soft thud. Shaking her head to rid the traces of annoyance within her mind, she unfolded the letter.

_Dear Izzy,_

_I apologize for summoning Toby before planned, however, I think that when you read this letter your questions shall be quelled. For the most part at least._

_It is with the utmost sadness in my heart that I inform you of the attempted rape of your daughter by another student yesterday. Thankfully she escaped unharmed and from what I hear, is recovering well from the ordeal. While I am not privy to her medical information, I do know that Madam Nurix has taken care of her. I shall work to keep you apprised of the situation, although I am under the impression that the worst is over regarding the trauma. Also, according to more than one of my colleagues, Galatea was in the staff room grading papers during the incident and no where near your daughter the entire night. Hopefully this helps ease your suspicions towards full extent of Galatea's involvement within Minerva's life is.  
><em>

_There is something else I believe you should be forewarned about, my dear; Hogsmeade is being kept under surveillance. The Spideagan are constantly on the lookout for Untergang, keeping guard of the children in the village, due to the attack on the un-named student I informed you of previously. Despite the Staff meeting a few days ago and Galatea's continued denial of knowing what the Untergang is after, I am quite certain that she does, considering she is the one who called upon the group. And while we're on the subject, I believe Dumbledore is also aware of the entire situation._

_Something doesn't add up, Izzy. I'd be on your guard if I were you. The Minister was at the meeting also. She took great care to ensure we all understood that no Auror, or even ex-Auror is safe from the Untergang's presence at the moment. In light of this, it's probably for the best that Cayden remains in Hogsmeade. Even if it is not as safe as it once was, you can be content knowing he is surrounded by protectors._

_The air is chilling at night, and not just from the cold. Please, you and your husband stay safe, all right? The last thing I want to hear is that either of you are dead. Be careful, my dear._

_Your friend,  
><em>_Horace_

Minerva blinked, then re-read the strange word again. '_Spideagan_'. She was quite sure she'd heard that word before, a long time ago when she had been talking to one of the elder women in Caluim. Frowning, the green-eyed witch scanned through her memories, trying to remember what they had been talking about. The woman had been rambling sweetly about a song, yet she had made it quite clear that it wasn't just any song, it had been the song of birds. The nightingales, to be precise.

She remembered Galatea talking about adding some-sort of protection around Hogsmeade, yet, she had been unable to ask what this had entailed thanks to a rather inconvenient distraction.

_So, 'the Nightingales' are guarding Hogsmeade..._ Minerva's eyes narrowed. She had not, in all her readings and studies of Ministry organizations, heard of a the group. Who ever they were, the Spideagan were either a highly secretive group, or one that was not involved with the Ministry. The latter was more probable, considering the Ministry would have had them shipped out to help the war.

_How in Merlin's name did Galatea get a group centered on the safety of Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and me in such short notice? Hmm, maybe not short notice..._ If one thing was clear, Galatea had connections and powerful ones at that- especially considering most Aurors, even ex-Aurors, were out abroad, involved in the war. _Am I really __**that**__ important?_

Other than that strange word, there was one other thing that stood out quite clearly from the letter; it was that Professor Slughorn had deliberately lied about Galatea's whereabouts. Yet, why _lie?_ What did he have to _gain_ from making false accusations? He obviously had a close connection with Isobel- using the nickname which she had only heard her father use _once_ in her presence was testament to that, as well as signing as _'your friend'._ So why was Professor Slughorn hiding the extent of involvement- more importantly, trying to quell Isobel's suspicions about her daughter's relationship with the elder witch -yet, still draw doubt on Galatea's behavior?

There were two possible, basic answers. Either Galatea held something over the man, or he had his own agenda and ideals- which, considering his words to her the night of Galatea's attack and the opening of the Chamber, that possibility didn't seem so very far off. He'd been sympathetic towards her, regarding her mother's silence, as well as showing his high approval of her relationship with the Defensive Arts professor. Yet, why would he approve of it when her mother clearly didn't? For that matter, if neither Professor Slughorn _or_ Galatea approved of her mother keeping secrets, then did her father as well? Were they all determined to stop Isobel, whatever her goals may be? There were so many unknowns, so many possibilities. It just gave her more incentive to recover her tampered memories. And a headache for that matter.

Minerva stared at the letter so intently that her eyes became something near cat-like. She had been determined to tamper with the letter, to erase the bit about her sexual assault, however, she found that she was unable to. While she rather hated the idea of her parents getting word of it, she reasoned that if Professor Slughorn felt it necessary to manipulate Isobel's cynical mistrust of Galatea, and to bring it down a level- then that was reason enough for Minerva to leave the note be.

She looked at the bird, who lay on the leaf covered ground, then back at the letter. With a sigh, the witch folded the parchment back up, placed it into the envelope and magically re-sealed it. She placed the letter back in Toby's leather sling cautiously, and only when she was a good distance away did she rouse him from her Stunner.

* * *

><p>While Poppy Pomfrey had every intention of making good on her word, she found her resolve dwindling as the day went by. What Augusta had said about Mikail acting as if he legitimately cared about Minerva was true. So true, that even she could not help the small flicker of doubt that began to whisper into her thoughts. She was quite determined to prove it wrong though. It was just another ploy, a method of his manipulation to have her warm up to him. The entire thing was unnerving; it was all too dreadfully convenient. Poppy could not help but wonder if Mikail was working with Riddle. It would be a highly logical move to say the least, and the attack opened up another front within Minerva's life to allow the wizard to gain emotional trust over his target, to seemingly prove that he was innocent by appearing to be enemies with Riddle.<p>

The apprentice healer sighed into the darkness of the night as she leaned against a stone wall of the castle. She was on Prefect duty, and while they were not supposed to turn off their wand-lights, she did tonight. She was being ever so cautious as well; Mikail had completely disappeared around seven this evening- exactly when the shroud of darkness replaced the sun entirely.

Call her suspicious, or paranoid, but Poppy had a bad feeling that he was up to something. Now would be the perfect time for him to get away with any traitorous plans he had in store- just thinking about it made her heart beat faster. She wrapped her arms around herself as she rested her body against the wall, hardly realising that her hands were shaking. What was it about Mikail that put her so utterly on edge?

Sometimes she got the feeling that maybe it was more than him being a possible threat. Every time she would see him, he was either around Minerva, Rolanda or by himself- which sometimes she liked best. She reasoned he was better away from her sisters, where he could do less damage, be less likely to manipulate them his- yet, that was_ if _he was a threat. So what was it if he wasn't? While she didn't like him being around her sisters, she particularly didn't like him being around Minerva. Poppy had previously believed it was because her talented sister was in danger, yet if she disregarded that fact, she couldn't help but wonder if it was all because Minerva was the only girl- except herself -that wasn't courting anyone?

Poppy shook her head at where her thoughts were leading. She didn't need this right now, she needed to be focused on protecting herself and her mind, protecting her green-eyed sister.

Suddenly, there was an odd crackling in the air, one that the apprentice knew all too well as the feeling of magic being discharged with anger. Gripping her wand, she cast a silencing charm on her shoes to keep her footsteps quiet and briskly made her way towards the commotion.

She neared the Divination room when she heard a soft thud. She pressed herself against the corner, took a deep breath, then took a peek down the hall, only to see Mikail and Riddle staring each other down, their wands on the ground and bristling with anger so fiercely that magic was sizzling around them. She made the quick decision to hide herself once more and eavesdrop. It was the perfect opportunity to hear what _both_ of them were up to, one she was was not going to pass up by interrupting.

"...nevertheless, you vanted control," Mikail's accented voice hissed in spite.

"Yeah, and what's it to _you?"_

The Apprentice twirled her wand waiting for Mikail's answer, but it didn't come, not in the way she wanted at least.

"Don't toy vith me, you sly, foul-" he ended the sentence with several words Poppy couldn't understand, but then he slammed Riddle against the wall. _"Vhat - vere - your - plans?"_

Her heart was absolutely pounding right now as thoughts raced through her mind. _Could it be that Riddle is the one behind it all?_

The Slytherin stayed obnoxiously silent, to the point that Poppy herself was tempted to march over there and strangle him for the answers she so desperately craved. She heard an angry grunt from Mikail and the shuffling of footsteps, as well as another thud against the wall.

"You try anything to hurt her again, and I vill personally have you killed, Riddle. Leave Minerva _alone,_ if you know vhat's good for you, she _isn't_ yours to take."

At that last word, Poppy struggled to keep a gasp tight inside her chest. _Take? Take where? Take for ownership?_ She wanted to think it was _'to take to Untergang'_ yet his demeanor didn't seem that way. It was calm, determined and very much not the sinister man she painted him to be.

Riddle cackled. "I think we both know that I wasn't trying to _'win her heart'_ yesterday."

"Highly obvious," he muttered to himself. "I vasn't referring to her affections, you _idiot."_

"Then what _were_ you referring to, _Lutrov?"_ the Slytherin spat in hate. It was obvious to her now that the two were in no way, shape or form, working together.

There was a low, dangerous growl. "Listen here, you filthy _svinya!_ I know vays to break your bones, get inside your head, make you suffer in the vorst possible vays imaginable. I _vill_ make your vorst fears come to reality. You leave Minerva McGonagall _alone,_ because unless you find a vay to defy death, it vill be the _last_ thing you _ever_ do. She's a good vitch and deserves more out of life than having to deal vith vile imbeciles like you!"

Poppy didn't know what to feel. She was so utterly confused now. So confused that she felt tears welling in her eyes. She blinked them away viciously. Maybe he really _did_ care about Minerva. Maybe he _wasn't_ part of Untergang. Maybe he-

_No. Stop it right there, Poppy. He's using you... he's just using you..._

Yet, she wasn't entirely convinced anymore. For the first time, she realised that part of her _wanted_ him to be their ally and _not_ the enemy. And that scared her more than she could ever express.

Quickly, she fled back to her post, entirely forgetting about punishing them both for being caught out of bed.

**October 12th, 1942:**

Poppy had been even more insistent about being near Minerva today, and to be honest it was about to drive the dark haired witch mad. The apprentice healer had also come back from last night's Patrol rather quiet- well, more so than usual at least. The only good thing about it all was that Poppy and Rolanda were keeping their word regarding Mikail.

Minerva sighed at the dinner table and rubbed her temples as a headache began to press. She was still trying to recuperate from the whole ordeal. _Why can't anything go right this year?_

"Are you going to eat, Min?" Augusta whispered.

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, you should still eat," the blonde witch said with a small smile. Minerva rolled her eyes, not just from Augusta's words, but from Poppy and Rolanda's instant feelings of agreement being pulsed through the connection.

"Oh honestly, you're _all_ ridiculous," she muttered under her breath.

"Ah, Miss McGonagall," Professor Slughorn walked up behind them, "I'm glad I could catch you. You left your Potions book in my classroom."

Minerva furrowed her brows, she was quite sure she _hadn't,_ but she accepted the book anyway, muttering her thanks as she did. She opened the cover, to make sure it really _was_ her Potions book, revealing a small note within.

_Riddle won't remember our lessons anymore. Take care, darling.  
><em>_Faol_

Minerva blinked a few times and felt a smile forming on her face. _'Faol' _meant _'wolf'_. Why she was able to remember that though, the green-eyed witch wasn't sure, but she was quite confident that she had _never_ heard the Gaelic elders speak the term it before.

**October 21st, 1942:**

Mikail sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed the book and put it atop the desk nearby. This memory tampering business was beginning to get tedious for him. He'd insisted that Minerva wait a few more weeks so he could do extra research, as he wanted to try and find a more effective method of recovering the memories than what was presented. He had to pull a few strings with some of his 'contacts', but he got the books he wanted- although the results within them were a little disappointing. The various other methods provided were still not guaranteed to be effective, as Mikail had grimly.

Still, the books provided him with a method that he considered the best, and less invasive, option- which, considering what Minerva had been through this week, he reasoned would be better for her.

He heard the now familiar sound of the Room of Requirement's metal opening and the soft patter of footsteps walking in. The wizard smiled softly and turned his head to look at her, yet that smile vanished the moment his eyes connected with Minerva's. There was an odd white glaze over her pupils.

"Have you found what you were looking for yet?" the witch asked as she flicked her wrist, shutting the doors behind her.

"Y-yes... are you all right?"

"I'm _fine,"_ she replied curtly, indirectly demanding him to not press the subject, causing his tawny brown eyes to narrow in suspicion. Mikail knew damn well that _'fine'_ was probably not the case. He knew what that odd glaze was like the back of his hand. It was a symptom of being victimized by the Legilimens spell and he didn't like that, he didn't like that at all.

_I'll kill Riddle if it's him again. The bastard has no idea what he's getting into... _The wizard clicked his tongue and shrugged off his thoughts.

"Very vell then," he said as he grabbed the book again and flipped back several pages from his previous location. "The beginning process is to analyze vhere the adaquels are."

"Adaquels?"

"It's a general term for anomalies vithin a person's memory; they're gaps, jumps, broken bridges, stray strands and contorted sections."

Minerva nodded. "How do we start?"

"In order to analyze, I vill have to map your memory stream in order to find these adaquels. Vhile there are several vays to do this, the most effective is to find how many there are and vhere they are located on a time scale. From there I shall begin tracing the stream."

"Describe_ 'tracing the stream'_. I'd like to know what's going to happen if we're to do this." She didn't question him as it all seemed relatively straightforward to her. There was no jumping hurdles, or asking questions with innocence attached behind her tone. Her voice was demanding like a leader's should be; inspiring and compelling, necessitating their conversation. He almost felt like a student between them, she being the teacher.

"A normal one vill look like a very long, thin cylinder vith tightly _v_eaved intricate threads meshed together. If there is an adaquel, a small part of that 'thread' vill be distorted by abnormal blips. They can either be severed- save for a few useless strands -or vith strands out of place, oddly _v_ired... or in your case, tainted."

He could tell the witch was suppressing a deeply rooted shudder the way her eyes darkened and her fingers curled tensely into her palm for a moment.

"I vill have to 'map' each individual adaquel after that for a more detailed analysis of each one, too see which are salvageable. This vay I can understand the complexity of the blip, and from there, I vill be able to estimate how long and difficult the process of correcting them vill be. I vant to let you know that vhile I am the one analyzing, there vill be very quick images flashing through your mind, you are the only one who is able to see these images. Basically, in the end, you are the sole person who shall ever know vhat the memories are. I just receive the technical data. I should also varn you that during the 'scans', images vill flash through your mind_ extremely_ quickly- I do hope you are not epileptic."

"No, I'm not, but thank you for the warning." She swallowed, hearing her voice etched with a partial ray of hope that she refused to hide. This was it; the solution to her tainted memories without running a higher risk of the Untergang knowing who she was. Minerva needed this to work. With so much going wrong this year it would be nice to have one thing good come out of it. "So you really think I can get my memories back?"

He looked away for a moment, staring into the fire, before returning to gaze into her green eyes. "Let me make this clear, Minerva; _no one _could truthfully tell you that this is one hundred percent likely to restore your memories. Not even a Master could be that certain. I'm sure you know that any erased sections are gone forever, there is is no vay to get them back. There's also the chance that some tampered memories are irreversible depending on how strong villed the caster vas, and their emotional state at the time of tampering."

The witch pressed her lips together, her thoughts racing about the pros and cons, weighing the risks. She had to do this, there was no other way. She had to find out what was hidden. She had to find out whatever her mother believed was reason enough to drive her family away and cause so much harm to Galatea.

"Just do what you can, please. I'm not backing down. Whatever I don't see will not be a loss, but whatever I do will be a victorious gain."

"If you don't mind me asking, vhat compels you to try and understand vhat is being hidden?"

Minerva sighed, stalling a bit of time for her to think of the best possible way to answer him. "My màthair has done many things, and the more I learn about her, the more I realize just how much damage she has done. She's continuing to hurt someone that I care about most deeply and I don't know why. Part of me still wants to hope that everything she has done is for a good reason, but I'm starting to believe that she has no justification for her actions, or at least none that is comprehensible to anyone but herself, because it seems that _everyone_ who knows what she _is_ doing, disagrees with her except maybe my father."

Mikail slowly nodded his head, completely understanding her determination. "I vill do everything I possibly can to help you, Minerva. You have my highest respect, I vant you to know that."

She pursed her lips, seemingly hardly phased by the comment. "I appreciate it, now, let's get on with this."

"Fair enough." Several scrolls of parchment appeared on the desk before them, as the wizard willed. He took out his wand and flicked it, muttering a spell or two as he did, then looked up at her again. "Everything I see vill be transferred onto these. The data, or more like vast, intricate details of your memory stream, will be recorded."

"I'd like a copy when we're finished."

Mikail smirked as he put his wand away. "I thought you vould. I've already charmed it to make a reciprocal vhen the 'scanning' is done."

"Well then, you've thought of everything it seems." The witch's eyes gleamed a bit in amusement, though it didn't last long.

"Maybe, but ve vill figure that out soon enough." He raised his hands with loosely open palms, bringing them to surround her temples. He looked into her fearless green orbs and took a deep breath._"Legilimens Preocluens!"_

Minerva was prepared for any initial gut-slamming driven force behind the spell, but there was none. Nothing painful came from it except for her head being thrown back and a white light bursting from her eyes, forcing a gasp of surprise to be released from her lungs from the vastly surreal experience.

There was no pause before Mikail ran through her memory stream, starting from the present and working backwards towards her mysterious past. As he had stated, there were no memories transferred between them, he kept his focus on the 'data', while images flashed before her eyes so fast that she found it difficult to breathe. It was a lot to handle at one time, but she forced herself to embrace it.

Most images appeared with hardly enough time to register what they were about. Yet, as time pressed on, and her memories seemed to descend into her early childhood, the chaotic mess of images began to slow down- or maybe it was her mind simply adapting to comprehend what she was seeing. Some she remembered; like her father twirling her around at the town square of Caluim, and the pair of them hiking in the Highlands; Aquae lament opening for the first time and how her mother had been furious with her for using magic, even denying the fact that her daughter had seen- or created -a vast underwater world; the bloodied bandages wrapped around her hands as Isobel held her; and then the many moments of happiness with her sisters and brothers.

And then there were some that she did not recognize; Isobel cradling Minerva at her chest as she yelled at the green fire; a young Avrenim crying as she pounded on the door; Minerva and her father comforting a sobbing Isobel near a graveside; a dark haired toddler with fear-stricken green-eyes rushing through a dark forest; and then a very pregnant Isobel closing the door behind her as Tradisi stormed into the Manor.

Amidst the chaos, there was one image in particular that the witch wished she could pause forever. She had thought it was a dream, or a fiction she had created as a child- but this being in her memories confirmed that she was very clearly wrong. It was the lone, grey wolf with pale blue eyes that undeniably belonged to Galatea Merrythought. They seemed to be pleading with Minerva, trying to tell her something that was incomprehensible, yet the feeling that she was safe, forever in a warm blanket, tucked away somewhere where nothing could ever harm her washed over her senses. The moment the image was consumed back into the chaos, Minerva felt like a part of her heart had just been ripped out. If there was any memory that she desperately wanted to see, it was _that_ one.

There were only a few other images, but they were fuzzy and relatively useless- probably due to her mind being too young at the time, before the images simply faded and were replaced by a warp of soft colored lights.

Mikail drew away, ending the transmission as well as leaving the ache in her heart free to expand. The Room of Requirement slowly eased into sight as she drew a trembling breath. Her entire body was shaking.

"Are you all right?" the wizard asked softly in a caring nature.

Minerva shook her head, and willed for a chair to appear behind her. She sat down, clenching her fists as she did. "I will be."

The wizard's tawny brown eyes narrowed with doubt, but he shook his head, knowing any comfort he chose to show the witch would only result in her snapping at him. He drifted away towards the scrolls that were still copying down the intense data that had been analysed, abandoning Minerva to recuperate.

It took a few minutes to stop the shaking. She could not stop remembering the flashes of Isobel that she had never seen before. Part of her wanted to feel terribly sorry for the woman after seeing the clear anguish within the images, yet at the same time she could not help but feel enraged that her own _mother_ had deliberately banished them from her mind in such a fashion.

She could only draw upon the possibility that Isobel had _deliberately _wanted her daughter to hate her, and the only way she could do that was for Minerva to have very little recollection of her mother having emotions or weakness. _But why go through all the trouble in the first place?_

She tried pondering this, but nothing came up as a reason why. _Damn it, Màthair! Why would you try to erase the woman you are- or were... Why would you try to compose yourself as a woman of no emotion except when manipulating me? __**Why manipulate at all? **__Why would you push Galatea away? Why cause all this damage to your family? Why, why, __**why?**_

She felt like screaming. There was no plausible answer anymore, not one that she could see at any rate, so she started talking, desperately needing to drain the fury.

"How many?" she rasped.

"Nine. There vere nine adaquels."

A hard, dead weight slammed into Minerva as she struggled to keep her breathing and emotions in check. She had hoped, in vain, that there would be only two or three at the most, but _nine... _she didn't know where to begin. Her whole world seemed to be balancing precariously on a crumbling cliff.

"Where?"

"Most are bet_v_een the ages of around one and four years old, although there's a few up 'til the age of seven, and strangely one vhen you vere about the age of fifteen. That one... it's_ very_ odd. There's a combination of methods being used."

Minerva's mind immediately raced to the odd 'black out' from her Overload._ Oh gods..._

"What sort of... _methods?"_ she had a horrible feeling in her gut about this one.

Mikail walked close to her, his eyes absolutely captivated by the anomaly. "Vell, for one, there's extensive erasement. Your others are far less... _complete._ This memory, vhat ever it is, is completely gone. Your brain activity just before it vas created suggests you vere already in a half-delusional state and there are signs that the adaquel vas caused by a medical procedure of some sort, but there is also erasement that vas done by a vand. There's a magical signature here."

Mikail looked up to see Minerva's hands clutching the armrests of the chair so tightly that her knuckles were white. Her eyes were narrowed in what she knew to be a _very _dangerous look, one that probably made a trickle of fear crawl through the wizard, but she didn't care. The only thing that was running through her mind was that her mother had deliberately destroyed whatever it was that had happened. The last thing she remembered from that day was Galatea rushing from Professor Dumbledore's office, looking quite frightened as she reached out to cup her face. The expression behind her pale blue eyes had been beyond scared; she had looked devastated.

Then a thought occurred to her, maybe Galatea had said something that Isobel disagreed with, something regarding the past which her mother wanted hidden, so she erased it all. It made sense as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had avoided her quite deliberately it seemed that year, then had completely folded her resolve towards keeping quiet and out of Minerva's life after what happened... whatever _did _happen, that is.

"Is there a magical signature in all the others? The _same_ one?" she asked.

"Hmm," she heard the sounds of the parchment moving as Mikail searched down the memory stream. He was silent for a moment, studying each adaquel. "All but two do not contain that same signature, and they vere done by two different people."

Minerva exhaled sharply, stopping her gasp from becoming heard. So, it wasn't _just_ her mother that had messed with her mind. A horrible, sickening feeling crawled through her gut. She knew one of them _had_ to be from Tradisi, it just seemed to fit with how much the woman was hated. However, who the other one was- _Oh Merlin,__** please,**__ don't let it be Galatea or Helena... please..._

Yet, it made too much sense. It could very well be the reason both women kept their distance in the past. Minerva felt like her heart was breaking right then and there, as the urge to scream _'WHY?'_ came over her. But she stayed silent on her deeply emotional turmoil and somehow managed to keep it together enough to inform Mikail they would have to continue the individual adaquel scanning at another time. He didn't argue.

The dark haired Gryffindor left for her Prefect Patrol early, all the while refusing to answer the elder witch's summons for the rest of the night. She was half afraid Galatea would try and confront her, but thankfully the woman didn't. It was only when she returned to her dormitory, where Rolanda, Poppy and Augusta were still up studying for a test when she finally broke into tearless sobs as she informed them of the news.

Right now, the only people she felt that she could trust were the girls and Professor Dumbledore.

* * *

><p><strong>I know a lot of you wanted to see what Galatea's reaction was when she came back to Hogwarts... but you shall have to wait until I write Galatea's story. I wrote it and realised that I could <em>not<em> post it in this chapter. There's too many things you all can't know yet, as this last bit clearly states. Mwuahaha!**

**~Evil LinK**


	29. They Who Are Accursed part I

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

* * *

><p><strong>~Just to clarify:<strong> As I do with "Màthair" and "Seanmhair" I'll be using Gaelic words in dialogue, but not in actually story/text. I'll also provide translations to words not used very frequently (unless I have a reason for hiding it. In that case it will be in italics and if you so wish, you can look up the word before I reveal it's meaning lol)

Translation example: "Yes, the_ Spideagan_ [Nightingales] are the same thing."

**~To make up for not putting in the section of which Galatea returned to Hogwarts from Russia:** I made a section at the end of this chapter for you all to muse over with delight- although at the end of it you might wish you hadn't complained in the first place xD. I really do love you all! I truly don't enjoy torturing your souls to no end. Okay. That last one is a lie. It's far too amusing to hear you all screech at me for answers :D

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 28 - They Who Are Accursed, Part I<strong>

**October 22nd, 1942:**

Minerva McGonagall had been rather quiet today. After yesterday's revelations, she had found it somewhat difficult to sleep. She'd nearly tossed the pulsing mirror across the room last night. Instead she had simply Banished it into her trunk where it currently lay and probably would stay there until she sorted everything out. Her thoughts were troubled, it didn't take a Seer to point that out. Not only was the stress of this year affecting her, but the abominable Time Turner was beginning to as well. All in all, it made for a rather confused and distraught Minerva.

"Min, you need to talk to someone," Rolanda said quietly as the trio lay down in the grass of the Transfiguration courtyard. They loved doing this after class but it seemed that as the years went by there was less and less time to do so.

"I can't. There's no one I _could_ talk to, even if I wanted to. I can't confront Gala-" she stopped herself. Her eyes narrowed with a bit of spite then she shook her head. "-Merrythought or Nurix. I don't know what they would do if they ever realised that I knew about my tampered memories."

"They've been with you every step of the way against your mum," Poppy said. Even she had trouble keeping up her usually affable personality around her mentor today. "Madam Nurix isn't one to change her views like that, especially when she's dead set on them. They care about you, Min, no matter what happened in the past."

"Not enough to leave my memories alone apparently."

"You don't know if they have though," the hawk-eyed witch pointed out as her short, silvery bronze hair was softly tussled by the wind. "It makes sense, I'll give you that. In fact, it makes absolutely _perfect _sense. But, Min, you really don't know for sure and if we've learned anything from your past, it's to expect the unexpected. It's obvious that they care about you and right now, with so few people on your side, it would be a bad idea to start separating yourself from Merrythought. The Untergang is out there, looking for you, and Mikail is... well, we don't know who _he_ is at the moment- or Riddle for that matter."

Poppy sent her sister an appreciative glance. Ever since she had told them about Mikail and Riddle's row, Rolanda had become much more apprehensive of the situation at large and more cautions too. But none of this seemed to help their conflicted sister at all.

Minerva knew they were right; she needed Professor Merrythought and Madam Nurix's support, if anything for a safeguard against the looming world around her, but it didn't erase the fact that her trust in both older women had been shattered. The dark haired witch needed advice on how to deal with her predicament. She was definitely in over her head with the memories and she wasn't afraid to admit that, but with everything else on the line, she didn't know who to go to. Everyone she knew had some sort of loose attachment that prevented her from speaking her mind about her memories. If anyone knew about what Mikail was doing for her they would have to put a stop to it- there was no if, ands, or buts about it -and Minerva worried that Galatea would find out anyway if she confronted the witch. She worried was actually more concerned about what the woman would do to Mikail rather than herself. The wizard, while still a possible threat, was putting forth a lot of effort into helping her and she respected him for that.

The girls were just as helpless in this field as she was. None of them really knew what to do and it hurt them to see their sister like this. This year was already proving to be hellish.

"Min, please, talk to Professor Dumbledore. You're smart enough to be more than discreet with your words and disguise the fact that you're trying to discover your memories with Lutrov. He might know something about Merrythought or Nurix that could help sort this business out."

Minerva struggled with this idea. Yes, Dumbledore already knew about her memories, but he was also colleagues with Merrythought and Nurix- which was both a negative and a positive; he might know some details on this subject having worked with both woman for a number of years, but it could also be an incentive for him to keep quiet about whatever he _knew_, and besides, it was entirely unprofessional to indulge a student with information about a colleague.

Yet, the fact of the matter was that she _trusted _him. She trusted Dumbledore more than she did with Galatea before all this mess even started. She trusted him with her _life._ Finally, the dark haired witch bobbed her head.

"All right, I'll talk to him during my lessons next week if nothing has been resolved."

Poppy sniffed. _"Next week?_ Min, this shouldn't wait that long!"

"Well, it'll have to," Minerva said with a bit more force than usual. "Professor Dumbledore won't be back until then. There's an uproar within the Wizengamot about how much we should be helping the Muggle side of the war as well as our own."

"That's rubbish!" Rolanda's yellow eyes flashed. "Of course we should be helping their side! This war can't be stopped by battling for one side alone, There's too many variables!"

"Exactly, that's what Dumbledore's trying to get people to realise." She sighed deeply. "He's got a lot of ground to cover before that happens though. We all need to be working together to fight this, not separated."

The other two girls sighed as well, although the hawk-eyed witch couldn't help but ask another question, "How much longer do you think your Occlumency lessons will last?"

"I'm not sure, but I imagine it shouldn't be too long. A few more, maybe."

Poppy's brows shot up. "Already? But you've only been going at this for two months..."

The green-eyed witch shrugged. "I can thwart off a Master for almost half an hour. That's the equivalent to nearly three hours against most Legilimens.."

Rolanda shook her head as her yellow eyes positively gleamed with mingled amusement an awe, causing Minerva to raise a brow.

"What?"

"Oh nothing, I just think that the Untergang is in for the biggest surprise of their lifetime when you start knocking on their doorstep."

**October 23th, 1942:**

Galatea stared at the two-way mirror for Goodness knew how long. For the past two days, Minerva had been blatantly avoiding and ignoring her, and she couldn't figure out why. It probably bothered her more than it should, however, it was the last thing the woman wanted to happen, and not just because it would break her, but because she had gone through such an ordeal twice already.

There were too many days that Galatea wished she had kept the young Gryffindor when she had the chance; kept her away from Isobel, the deceit, pure unadulterated hate, and experiencing that loss of love which no child should have to go through- especially when it was from _their own mother._ Just thinking about it made her heart heavy. It would be a constant burden upon her soul- just another regret within her life, and she had far too many of those already.

The woman tore her eyes away from the mirror as her hand began to subconsciously tinker with the locket Minerva had given her. She had talked with Helena last night when the medi-witch had found in the kitchens, musing over her thoughts and trying to see reason on her beloved Gryffindor's actions. While Helena believed it might be a repercussion of Riddle's actions against her, Galatea wasn't convinced. Minerva had not expressed any sort of anguish towards her mentor for not being there to save her, and besides, she wasn't the sort of girl to turn her feelings around just like that. In all honestly, Professor Merrythought was afraid. It wasn't a feeling that she had often, but when she did, it consumed her until she resolved the problem- and Merlin help her, that's exactly what she planned to do.

Galatea knew she had to tread softly, one wrong step and people would start wondering what her true relationship with Minerva was- rumors on that subject were the last thing either of them needed right now. But no matter the risk, the woman knew had to put a stop to the girl's avoidance tactics, or at least see some sort of reason behind the her actions. She'd go mad if she didn't. Minerva meant to much to her to simply let her go like this.

She tried contacting her beloved pupil again, but it was utterly useless and she nearly threw the mirror across the room with the agonizing frustration building inside her. Oh, she knew the girl was safe. Nathan was looking out for her tonight while she was on patrol within the castle, and if there was anyone who she trusted to protect Minerva other than Professor Dumbledore and herself, it was him. Yet that didn't matter. Galatea _needed_ to understand what in Merlin's name was going on with her favorite Gryffindor.

Taking a chance with fate, the woman quickly summoned her warm black cloak, fastening it around her shoulders as she left her office. For forty two years the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor had worked here, lived here and healed here; Hogwarts had forever been a sanctuary for her since the moment she accepted the post- actually that was the day she had met Helena as well, and Merlin knew how much that woman had changed her life.

The professor rounded the corner, nearing Minerva's post, when she sensed something behind her that made her stop all together. She had known that the man was there, and his identity, before her magical awareness did. Nathan, her long time schoolmate and once Auror partner.

"_Broc _[Badger], you can come out from the shadows."

There was a chuckle, followed by the light, but familiar pattern of the man's footsteps.

"Evening, _Faol _[Wolf]," he stated quietly, pushing back his hood to reveal his face. "What brings yeh here?"

It never ceased to amuse her how much the wizard hadn't changed since the old days. His sleek brown hair was tied back into a ponytail, and his attire was the same white collared, tight knit, black wizard's suit it had always been, now hidden under his midnight blue trench coat.

Galatea shrugged. "Same reason you are, old friend; _Dùil__." _Despite her being in a rather grim mood, saying Minerva's codename still tugged a smile from her lips. It was so fitting.

At the mere mention of the girl, the wizard's dark lavender eyes lit up. "Ah, yes, I wondered as such. The girl hasn't seemed herself these past few nights."

The professor frowned. "That is an understatement."

Silence passed between them for almost a minute before Nathan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Yeh know that the _Spideagan_ [Nightingales] will want to meet the lass eventually."

His words forced a sigh to escape her lips as her gaze became downcast. "I know, and I do not blame them. They are risking their lives for her, you all, above everyone else, have earned the right to meet her, to see that she really is the one this war needs."

"Yeh know we all believe yeh. There isn't one of us who is doubting that _Dùil _is important, or in danger."

"I am know that, but I am also well aware that some members are simply here because of the children. They have to meet her because the moment they lay eyes on her- see her, talk with her -they will believe in our cause more than ever."

The wizard smiled. "I've already had the pleasure of it. There's an aura around her. Fate is doing its bidding for the war."

"Oh do not get me started with fate, _Broc_ [Badger]."

He snorted in partial amusement as he held his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right. So, yeh want me to hang around while yeh talk with her, or go silent for a few minutes?"

If it wasn't for the fact that she was used to Nathan sensing what she needed before it was spoken, she might have been surprised. His empathic abilities proved quite useful at times.

"Silent for a moment or two, if you don't mind, but keep your eyes peeled all the same."

"Aye, will do,_ Faol _[Wolf], and good luck," he said, flashing her a smile just before pulling his hood up again and disappearing once more.

Galatea pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her thoughts regarding the Nightingales away. There would be time to contemplate _that_ situation later, right now though she needed to concentrate on fixing whatever was causing Minerva to drift away.

She made her way down the corridor and turned the corner when she found the very girl she was looking for. The moonlight was shining upon her face, causing a glow to bounce off her fair skin. Just seeing her made it obvious that the girl was troubled by something; her solemn posture, one hand resting on the stone column while her right arm hung low at her side, her illuminated wand pointed at the floor. Her eyes were staring off into the distance, and from the look on her face, she was in deep thought.

The professor frowned as the urge to wrap Minerva in her arms came over her, but fought it off as she walked towards the girl.

"Miss McGonagall," she spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper

The tall Gryffindor barely glanced her way as she nodded in curtly. "Professor."

Galatea suppressed a sigh and instead looked up at the moon as it shone down upon the castle grounds. The soft breeze gently swirled the soft wisps of hair around her face as if trying to erase the tension around them.

"A beautiful night, is it not?" the professor said quietly, her crystal eyes still staring out at the night.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Galatea sniffed sharply as a frown took form on her lips. It wasn't like Minerva to give short ended answers, or even call her _'Ma'am' _when they were alone for that matter. She turned around to face her beloved pupil, whose emerald eyes were still avoiding her gaze.

"What is wrong, dear?"

"Nothing."

"_Nothing?"_ The professor shook her head. "You are avoiding me, Minerva, for _'nothing'_?" She tried not to sound cynical, but the girl was being ridiculous. Were they not past this point by now?

"Minerva, you know that you can tell me _anything."_

The girl huffed and looked away. "I wish."

"Darling, please, tell me what's wrong. I want to help you, I cannot do that if you keep pushing me away..."

"I'm sorry, Galatea, but this time I think it'd be for the best if I didn't say anything. I'm very confused and conflicted right now."

"About what?"

"Things I shouldn't know about." Minerva took one last look at her mentor before attempting to leave. The look in the woman's eyes was similar to that of the wolf who had glanced at her in the memory. It took everything she had not to ask the woman what had been erased.

"Minerva..." the woman stopped herself. She wanted to tell her. She wanted to tell this beloved girl, who meant the world to her, _everything._ But that abominable promise, that love towards Isobel- despite how twisted it seemed now -prevented her and kept her silent.

"You can't tell me anything. I know," Minerva shot darkly.

"That is not what I was going to-"

"No, but it's what you're doing and it's what my life revolves around." The Gryffindor sighed. If she had looked up, she might have seen the hurt within the woman's eyes. Those words, while entirely true and well deserved, cut through Galatea like a knife. "This year... it's been a year from Hell and I think I'm at my wits end right now."

The woman had to restrain herself from lifting the girl's chin; she wanted to see the girl's eyes that continued to evade her. "Darling, please do not misunderstand me. I _want_ you to figure this out, I _want _you to piece the mystery together."

Now Minerva glanced at her, but it was with a trembling outrage. "Then just tell me!"

"I _cannot."_ Her voice wavered. It was so hard to say those words. So terribly hard. It would be so easy to damn Isobel's wish to hell and forget everything that she had once meant to her. But Galatea couldn't do that. "I cannot tell you, darling. You have to ask questions; well-founded questions with evidence behind them, only then can I start speaking- though I'm still limited."

"But _why?"_ the Gryffindor gestured with her hands, her frustration getting the better of her. _"What_ does she have over you?"

Galatea's sad crystal eyes looked away. "I made a promise."

"Was it an unbreakable vow?" Minerva's voice was beginning to edge with the outrage in her eyes.

"No."

"Then why can you not break it? What has she done to deserve your loyalty to this extent when she doesn't even want you around?"

The woman inwardly flinched at the girl's harshness. Her words were very much the truth, but it was still a reality that hurt Galatea more than she cared to admit. "Isobel is not the one who did '_it'_. I did. I am the one who did something- something that will probably continue to haunt me for the rest of my life."

"Is it something you want to keep _hidden?"_

The woman bobbed her head regretfully while clenching her fists, her nails digging sharply into her palms. "I would rather you never find out, but since I told Isobel about it there is no stopping you, I am sure. You will find out eventually." She shook her head. "Just find what your màth- _mother,_ is keeping hidden. _Please..."_

Minerva narrowed her eyes, not just from the uncharacteristic pleading, but because she was getting a little tired of the professor trying to prevent _that_ slip. "Galatea, do you speak Gaelic?"

The woman was oddly silent for a while, her eyes swirling with untold emotions. "Yes."

"Then why hide it?" Galatea looked at her, nearly baffled by the girl's response. It was a near exact opposite of the response she received two years ago. Granted, the girl had been half delusional at the time, but still. "Why hide the fact that you can speak a different language? If it's a habit to say words in Gaelic then by all means just say them! It doesn't matter to me."

The woman continued to just look at her incredulously, causing Minerva to let out a rather frustrated sigh and rub her temples. "Fine then. Don't tell me anything, but know that I need some space and time to think everything over again. I'm tired of all this and if we continue fighting then it'll only get worse."

"I... all right."

Galatea wasn't sure how she managed to keep the anguish and disappointment from entering her words as she spoke. She was letting Minerva go. Again. Granted it was nothing like before, but it was still painful. That girl was the reason she slept at night when things with Isobel became hard. She was the reason that she continued hoping, while Isobel continued to dissolve before her eyes. That girl was her life, the rhyme and reason that she continued to breath. It did not take a healer or Seer to convince her of that. She needed to talk with Helena again. Maybe more than just_ talk._

The two broke off without another word said between them.

**October 25th, 1942:**

Helena had been patient. Too patient for her own damn good, most would think. She had watched Galatea being hurt by Minerva McGonagall's avoidance for several days now and it was quite enough for her liking. Isobel had started like this, keeping her distance and blatantly avoiding Galatea before severing all ties with the woman, and she'd be damned if she was going to let that happen again. Galatea deserved far more than that.

She probably shouldn't have done this; finding the stray Gryffindor and summoning her to her office, but it had to be done. Minerva needed to realise that Helena wasn't going to let another young girl destroy everything _again. _Granted, the situation was a bit different, but the medi-witch was done dealing with those sort of shenanigans.

So, what did she do when the dark haired witch walked into her office and ask what the Matron needed? She offered the girl a biscuit. It had caught Minerva off guard, which was exactly what Helena had planned. The girl was far too used to adult figures not being civilized when angry, and that was something the medi-witch also wanted to change. It didn't have to be that way.

"I repeat, Miss McGonagall. Treat yourself to a biscuit, please. They're Ginger Newts and I know you like them."

Minerva looked at the woman as if she had gone mad. "Professor Dumbledore hasn't gotten to you, has he Madam?"

Now they were making progress. The Matron chuckled. "No, I dare say he hasn't. I don't particularly enjoy his Sherbet Lemons, so he has yet to corrupt me fully."

The witch frowned. "And how do you know that I like them?"

"Galatea's mentioned it a few times," Helena said with a soft smile, though it was quick to vanish.

The dark haired witch eyed her for a moment, then cautiously took a biscuit and sat down. It was obvious that she was a little nervous, but the starting conversation had helped ease the tension that was no doubt present within the room. Helena closed the tin, set it down gently, then sighed as she took her own seat and gazed into Minerva's emerald green eyes. She tried not to compare the girl to her mother, she tried very hard every day. She looked so very much like Isobel which made it hard sometimes, but when Helena looked into the girl's eyes- saw Robert's own staring back at her -she was reminded that the girl was in Gryffindor, and all pent up hatred for her mother vanished. Minerva had so much more love to offer than Isobel ever did.

"I won't pretend that I don't know what's going on between you and Galatea, my dear. I see it in her eyes. Now, I didn't summon you to give you a lecture, to be little you, or to force you to do something you don't really want to, but we need to set a few things straight. If you plan to abandon Galatea in any way, shape or form- if you so much decide to treat her as your mother does -don't do it. She's been through too much and I will not allow you to break her heart as your mother did. So tell me, do you plan on abandoning her?"

"I'm not planning _anything._ I don't _want_ to abandon or hurt _anyone_, Madam, I just want to figure out what's been hidden; why she can't tell me what my màthair is up to; why she doesn't just let Màthair go, after everything she's done to her; why Màthair keeps everything hidden and _what_ in Merlin's name is so bloody important for me not to know! Does that work for you?"

The Matron was silent for a while. She stared into the girl's eyes that were clouded with frustration and sympathised with her- maybe even felt some empathy. Finally, she nodded and spoke in a soft tone with no traces of her previous anguish. "Yes. Yes it does. Thank you."

With that, Minerva took her leave, yet, she stopped with her hand on the door as she tilted her head quizzically to look at the Matron. "You can't tell me anything, can you?"

Helena pursed her lips. Her grey eyes narrowed as confliction brewed within her. "Ask me the right questions, and I _might _be able to give you some details to help you. I really do want you to discover the answers, Minerva, as I know you're well aware that Galatea does as well."

The Gryffindor furrowed her brows, though her expression seemed to soften just a tad.

"What's your angle in all this?"

"_My_ angle?" she sniffed in slight amusement. "Dear, I don't have one."

"So why do you keep silent then? Does my màthair have something over you as well?"

"No," Helena's voice was suddenly edged as her grey eyes narrowed with an intensity Minerva had not seen in a while. The mere mention of the girl's mother these days made her blood boil. "Isobel has absolutely _nothing_ over me, I can assure you. The only reason I keep quiet about everything is because Galatea has asked me too. Your _guardian_ is very dear to me, as I'm sure you've realised. I'd do anything that she wants me to, anything that she needs, and right now what she _needs_ is to heal and mend."

"So she can't do that if I-"

"Nah-ah," Helena waved a finger, "my turn to ask a question, dear." The girl pursed her lips, causing the Matron to smile softly. "You didn't think I'd let you just bombard me with questions without something in return, did you?"

Minerva gently bobbed her head. "Fair enough, Madam."

"Please, dear, I think you've earned the right to call me 'Helena' by now." The Gryffindor's eyes sparkled brightly as nodded her head. "How is Poppy, really? She's been very agitated within the hospital, more tense than usual, and for the life of me I can't figure out why."

"She is? That's... that's odd. She's been more calm around me and the girls these last two weeks than she's ever been these past few months."

The Matron hummed in thought as she folded her hands and rested her chin on top of them. "That is odd, indeed. Well, I'll have a talk with her about it, so don't you fret. Now, it's your turn."

Minerva pursed her lips for a moment. She thought about just asking the Matron every question imaginable regarding the mystery, but she had a feeling none of those would get answered. She needed to get facts and little details to even begin to solve the mystery of it all.

"How long have you known Galatea?"

"I met her forty-two years ago. She'd just accepted the Defence Against the Dark Arts post. Those were some of her darker years..." The woman frowned sadly, but then shook away her thoughts. "What did you make of the conversation between your mum and I? I'm quite certain that Poppy told you of it."

"It didn't tell me anything new, really. Just confirmed many of my suspicions, although it raised many more as well. It... it was disturbing to hear that màthair tries to manipulate others rather than just myself, and to hear how much pain she's caused you and Galatea. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, dear. None of this is your fault. It's hers, and don't you forget that."

"When did she turn her back on Galatea and start pushing her away?"

"Hmm," Helena narrowed her eyes. That was a difficult question, and not particularly because of the information behind it. "Well, I'm not entirely sure. I've been mystified by that myself. I suppose it started sometime after Isobel graduated Hogwarts and left for the Auror program, but it could have been after she completed the course I suppose. But as for when she completely _'turned',_ well, Galatea would give you a different answer than I."

"And that is?"

The woman took a deep breath and was silent for a few moments. Her grey eyes were swirling with multiple emotions and questions. "There were multiple _disagreements_ before you were born, but _after_ you were born was when Isobel finally left. Galatea would have you believe it was either a few years after that or in your fourth year. You can ask a few more questions."

"Did it have anything to do with my Overload?"

The Matron stiffened as her jaw was clenched tightly for a moment or two. While there were multiple reasons that she despised Isobel, that particular one cut quite deeply. "I shouldn't say. I'm sorry."

Minerva shrugged it off, although duly noted it being a possibility considering the woman's reaction. "All right then, can you tell me what my màthair has cost Galatea then? You mentioned something about it, quite fiercely."

"You've figured out your Glimpsing sub-ability, haven't you?" the woman smiled softly, though it quickly vanished. "Your mother... she cost Galatea more than she could afford. And I'm not talking about money."

The grim tone in Helena's voice almost scared her a little. Whatever she meant by it, it was clearly something that upset her greatly, and her changing the subject was further testament to that. "What do you make of this Mikail Lutrov character?"

Minerva scoffed, mainly to avoid betraying the fact that they were working together on her memories. "I have absolutely no idea. I've come to respect him a little bit, but I'm not letting my guard down, if that's what you're asking."

Helena nodded her head. "Good, because I don't know what to make of him either. Be cautious, Minerva, you can never know with the Untergang. They can hide in the shadows for years before you know who they truly are."

"I'll keep that in mind." The Gryffindor licked her lips. "Would you or Galatea ever _want_ to hide something from me?"

The woman narrowed her eyes. "Now what's got you thinking that, I wonder?" she shook her head. "No, we would never _want_ to hide anything from you. Well, Galatea would rather you never found out about _one _thing in particular, but she'd never deliberately stop you from knowing about it- unlike your mother. Does that help?"

"Yes, it helps a great deal." Minerva smiled at the woman. While it didn't rule the women out for tampering with her memories, she knew- somehow just _knew_ -that neither of them would have done it with ill-intent. They were good people, there was no doubt about that.

"Thank you, Helena. I probably should be getting back to class."

"Hmm, yes, you probably should. And Minerva?" The dark haired witch stopped once again at the door and turned around. "Remember what I said, don't abandon her."

"I won't. I'll talk with her tonight."

The woman smiled, all the worry and stress within her eyes from before was gone and replaced by a great joy. "Thank you, Minerva, and I'm glad we talked. Now off you get."

* * *

><p>All afternoon Minerva failed to pay much attention in any of her classes after her conversation with Helena. In fact, she had been so distracted that the girls had grown rather concerned.<p>

"What's wrong with you, Min?" Pomona asked, hooking her arm around the Gryffindor as the six girls- Hestia was with them as well this time -walked towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. "You've been positively scatterbrained since you got back."

"What did Helena say?" Augusta chimed in.

Minerva smiled softly. "She offered me a biscuit."

Rolanda snickered. She and Poppy had already been informed of the entire conversation through their mental connection, and that was probably the one part which the hawk-eyed girl could not stop laughing about. "It was an offer Minerva apparently couldn't refuse_ or_ immediately take."

"It's not _my_ fault that she asked so oddly!" Minerva retorted, though her smile broadened. "We ended up talking, and I think she helped to resolve my thoughts on both of them. Even _if_ one of them tampered with my memories, it would not have been with ill-intent. They want me to discover the past, and while they can't tell me much, they have no intention of keeping me in the dark about it either."

"Which all in all, is a bloody wonderful thing." Poppy said as she continued to keep a lookout for Mikail. He'd been very dodgy as of late, which she was not happy about what-so-ever.

"Well, you have my best wishes, Min," Pomona said, placing a hand on her shoulder, then turned to Hestia. "Come on, we should get to Charms."

The two Hufflepuffs said their farewells, then went on their way as the Gryffindors continued towards their destination. Upon entering the room, Minerva held a faint small smile on her face, although when she took a seat she purposefully looked up at her professor and allowed her smile to broaden as the woman looked her way. The emotions in the woman's eyes when they connected with her gaze was all Minerva needed to know that it was indeed time to reconcile with the woman.

Hope and an unwavering love.

* * *

><p>As usual when she wanted to stay after class to talk with the woman, Minerva pretended to continue working on the assignment until the last student was preparing to leave before she got up and went to her professor's desk, asking for help. Professor Merrythought played along as normal. It wasn't hard to feign a conversation- if anything, it was typically more difficult to hide the amusement that came from it -although this time Minerva could sense the slight hesitation, caution and sombre hints from the woman's actions. Her crystal blue eyes were having trouble not betraying her emotions especially.<p>

Finally, when the last student left and the door was closed, a silence drew upon them, yet it was not for very long.

"I talked with Helena today," Minerva began, her voice steady and gentle. The last thing she wanted was to make the woman more upset, instead she wanted to mend the gap she had created.

Galatea cleared her throat, trying to hide her surprise. It didn't work very well. "You did?"

"We had a good talk, don't worry."

The woman tilted her head to the side. "She did not hound you?" She hadn't intended to say it aloud, but the elder witch couldn't prevent herself.

"Not entirely, although she did inform me that I'd basically be damned if I abandoned you."

The professor couldn't help but chuckle softly. "That sounds more like her." Her smile lingered for a moment before fading as her eyes cast down. "Minerva... I-"

"Please, let me speak," Minerva interjected as she reached out to the woman and gently clasped her hands over hers. "Galatea, I have been a fool these past few days. I was tired and emotionally compromised and I let that get the better of me. I drove you away over things that I _know_ you have no control over. I got frustrated with everything going on, and all the secrets kept between us don't help matters. I just felt very alone and unable to trust anyone. I should have trusted you and Helena because neither of you two have ever done anything to warrant such actions. I just.. I'm still struggling with the idea that not every adult in my life wants something from me. I'll have to work on that. But 'til then..." she sighed and downcast her eyes. "Galatea, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to hurt you. Please forgive me."

"Darling, look at me." Warm hands gently cupped her face. "You will _always_ be forgiven in my eyes and in my heart. You mean so much to me, dear. So much."

There was a warm spark within her eyes, one that almost overwhelmed Minerva. She didn't know why this woman cared for her as she did. She didn't know why she was so special to her, what she had done, or who she was to her. It didn't make sense, but then again, when did love ever make sense?

The green-eyed witch gave in, wrapping her arms around the woman's neck in a tight embrace that was accepted immediately. It was so warm, so calming, and just so _right_. Minerva didn't understand why though, maybe it was simply because she'd never really experienced this sort of feeling with her mother. But then again, maybe not. There was a lot to learn and discover, she just prayed that she was ready for it.

"Can you answer something for me?" Minerva asked as she broke away, just enough to look into the woman's crystal blue eyes that were once again shimmering with affection.

"I will do my best, dear."

"What am I to you?"

Galatea mustered a small smile as she gently brushed the girl's porcelain cheek with her palm. She wanted to tell the girl just how much she cared for her. She loved Minerva, yet, she couldn't bring herself to say it. Ever since her parents' untimely murder, the word 'love' has always been a terribly difficult thing for her to say or even admit, so she settled upon another way of expressing it.

"You, my dear girl, are more than just my favorite student, more than my apprentice and more than just a _very _special girl who holds a place in my heart." She kissed Minerva's forehead. "You are hope."

The Gryffindor's green eyes sparkled as a warm, simple happiness filled her heart. She didn't contemplate just what that hope meant to the woman, or just how many people it touched. Maybe that was for the best though. She still wasn't entirely ready to realise just how many people there were waiting for her to complete what she was being trained for. It was just too much of a scale to comprehend.

**October 28th, 1942:**

Professor Dumbledore placed his hand on Minerva's shoulder just as she began to leave. "Minerva?"

She turned around- her emerald eyes sparkling save for the normal white glaze present within her pupils after tonight's practice. "Yes, Professor?"

This young woman never ceased to astound him. After being under the Legilimens spell for nearly forty minutes, she was still acted so calm and collected around him. He remembered his own lessons, and they were not so pretty. He had become furious at his mentor several times- after all, it was incredibly difficult to behave rationally after being attacked by such a spell. Yet, she still managed it and with her beautiful green eyes still sparkling at the end- maybe a little more exhausted than before, but nevertheless, they were always bright. It made him remember when she had broken down after Riddle's assault, how there was not a single tear shed. He had found that haunting, and yet, he couldn't quite put his finger on it as to why. It didn't seem right. He had told himself that it wasn't his business before, but the fact of the matter was that he cared for her. A little more than he should, if he was completely honest. It was hard not to for many of the teachers. It was just who the girl was, what she compelled people to do by just socializing with them. She was a pure-born leader, his protogée. She was perfect for the job which he could not compel himself to do, he realised. Utterly perfect.

"I want to let you know that I am very proud of you. Your progress with this has been astounding, and as much as I enjoy our lessons, I don't believe that there is anything else I could teach you on this subject. Therefore, next time will be our last."

"And then it'll be using Occlumency on the battlefield with Professor Merrythought, correct?"

"Yes it shall," he confirmed. "However, I believe she plans on waiting a month or so until starting that, to let you take a break from all this."

Minerva smiled at the thought. "That'd be nice. With everything that's happened, I feel like I've hardly had the chance to catch my breath these past few months."

He squeezed her shoulder gently, his eyes twinkling as he did. "You've earned it, my dear. Have a good night."

"You too, Professor, and I'm glad that you're back."

He smiled upon her as he watched her leave, then closed the doors with a lamenting cry from Fawkes as he soared into the room.

"Ah, I see you're back, old friend. Did you find what you were looking for?"

The bird shrugged, then scratched his feathers. Albus sighed.

"I haven't either, I think."

Fawkes looked up at him with a curious glance, then squawked a question.

"Yes, it's about her tears again. It just doesn't seem right."

The bird nodded his head then unexpectedly took to the sky.

"And just where do you think you're going, old friend?" the wizard hummed in partial amusement, though when the phoenix turned right around and charged at him as his feathers began to turn a fiery red, he knew what was going on. "Oh no, Fawkes, you know what happens when you-"

A blinding flash came over him as the bird teleported them to the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower, right at the door of the classroom.

"-get me involved." Albus glared at the bird. "You really are a rotten foul sometimes, you know that?"

The bird chuckled in an odd squawking sound, shoved the man into the room and disappeared, leaving the professor to do what his conscience needed. He walked through the empty classroom and towards her closed office door. The small portrait on her door came to life as he neared.

"Is Professor Merrythought in?"

"Yes," the knight said. "I shall alert her."

With that he left and a moment later the door opened, revealing the elder witch sitting at her desk.

"Come in, my friend." Galatea's voice hummed through the room. She looked rather well, all things considered. Her pale blue eyes were rather lively. "How was Minerva's lesson?"

"Brilliant as always. She stalled me for forty minutes this time round," Albus said as he walked in.

The witch got up and motioned for him to follow her into her personal rooms beyond her office, looking rather relieved by his words. "That really is wonderful news, Albus. Hopefully I will sleep a little better now... Damn the man who invented Legilimency."

Albus chuckled. "I certainly agree with that."

They neared her living room quarters where the fireplace was lit and breathing warmth throughout the room when Galatea's elf popped near them, carrying a steaming cup of tea. He politely asked if Albus wanted anything, which the Transfiguration professor humbly declined, then disappeared.

The elder witch took a sip, then leaned against the mantle. "So, was this her last lesson? Or will you do one more?"

"One more, then she's all yours for the year."

The witch smiled softly at the thought. With all the events as of late, her last 'lesson' with Minerva had been nearly three weeks ago, and she had sincerely missed teaching the girl one-on-one. "I will be taking her to the next _Spideagan_[Nightingales] meeting in two weeks. I think it's time she realizes who is friend and foe around here."

"You think she's prepared?"

"Honestly?" she pursed her lips as she stared into her tea. "I do not think anyone could really be prepared. She is still a girl, no matter how mature she appears. Goodness, she must be at least thirty with how her mind works sometimes, but I am not even sure that will be enough." The witch let out a deep sigh. "It is an enormous burden knowing that there are so many out there willing to die for you. I would not be surprised if she is a bit overwhelmed when the time comes. Keep an eye on her for me, will you?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." She closed her eyes as she took another sip, letting the tea mellow her thoughts before opening them again. "Is there anything else?"

Albus sighed, silently damning Fawkes once more. "I may be over thinking things, but have you noticed that Miss McGonagall is unable to shed a tear?"

If it wasn't for the wizard being prepared this time, there would have been a second set of shattered china on the floor this year. Galatea's eyes widened in shock as her breathing hitched severely. She swallowed hard.

"No... no, that is preposterous. That _cannot_ be right!" She shakingly moved herself to the nearby sofa and sat down, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the end of the armrest. "Did she not cry after _Riddle...?"_

He shook his head. "No. She broke down, but there was not a single tear."

"No..." Galatea shook her head in disbelief, and possibly horror as well, as she clasped her free hand over her mouth and willed her eyes shut. The elder witch was shaking so hard, the auburn haired wizard wondered if she was on the verge of a panic attack. Maybe she was.

"Galatea, talk to me. What's wrong?"

The witch let out a shuddering breath but did not open her eyes. Instead, she started muttering in her native tongue, presumably cursing something rotten. He rather disliked it when she did that, for the main reason that he could not understand her. He made a mental note to generate a translation spell for Scottish Gaelic sometime. He also could not help but notice how considerably frail the Galatea appeared to be right now. While her health had never been a considerable factor in all the years he had worked with her, this was disconcerting.

It took her a few minutes, but eventually she stopped and went silent, but only for a brief moment.

"Forgive me, Albus," she replied with a voice that was hauntingly low and deadly calm as she opened her eyes and looked at him, "but I must leave. Please inform Helena that I will probably be back late tonight, or the early morn."

"Where are you going?"

The woman got up, Summoned her black trench coat and quickly put it on. Her eyes were dark, flashing with deeply rooted fury. "To talk to the dead."

Albus furrowed his brows. _Why the Hell does she need to do such a thing? Scratch that. __**How**__ the Hell is she going to do it?_

"What is going on, Galatea?" he asked, his voice dangerous, low and demanding.

"Tradisi is not going to win, _that_ is what."

"What_ in Merlin's name_ are you talking about? Is that witch dead, or not?" He didn't like how Isobel and Galatea continued to speak as if Tradisi was still making trouble. It didn't make any sense.

"The _bitch_ is dead."

He wanted to throw his hands into the air. "Then what-"

"This is _not_ your fight, Albus," Galatea said quite sternly, although in a haunting manner as well, "and I pray it never is, for it is one of the most accursed fights I have_ ever _fought."

"If it involves Miss McGonagall, then yes, it _is_ my fight! She's needed in this damn war and if there's something is wrong with her then it needs to be fixed!"

Galatea bristled with frustration as she threw him a glare, one he knew very well meant that she wouldn't be budging on this topic. "Then the most you can do is continue to support and protect her! I _will not_ discuss this, nor will it _ever_ be discussed again, and you _will_ see yourself out accordingly, Professor Dumbledore!"

Albus narrowed his eyes. He did _not_ like this, not one bit, but he knew that if he didn't drop this and leave now, it wouldn't end well for either of them.

If one thing was for sure, he would be keeping a closer eye on how Galatea, Helena _and _Isobel interacted with his protogée. Something was certainly not right there. Not right at all.

* * *

><p><strong>As usual, I will not apologize for the angst endings xD<br>**

**Part II: **Prepare for Halloween.

**~LinK**


	30. They Who Are Accursed part II

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**~If anyone hasn't read Em's story ****Mothers, Sons and Lovers****you need to! **It's positively wonderful and the current angst ending will have you on the edge of your seat! (Which is always a plus in my books, although I'm sure I'm the loner on that one haha). So Kudos to Em and Spin for their fantastic job. I'm beyond lucky to have them both working on this project :)

**~If it's not obvious by now;** I have no estimate on how long this year is really going to take me. I have events all planned out, however, my plans keep stretching and I tend to be unpredictable xD (I'm** really not** trying to kill you my lovely betas, I'm really not!)

**~On the smartphone app version of FanFiction Reader on PoaG** I've noticed that at the very bottom it likes to copy and paste a little odd clip? I don't know why it's doing that. The online versions don't have it, nor do my uploaded documents :/

**~Right, I planned on getting a chapter ahead **but I got slammed with two infections in the _**same **_ear. I don't think I even touched PoaG for three days, and I've never done that, even on vacation. So, hugs to my amazing betas and friends (and mom) for putting up with my utterly miserable self this past week, I love you all.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 28 - They Who are Accursed, Part II<strong>

**October 28th, 1942 (continued):**

His wife had been on edge ever since Horace Slughorn delivered the news about Minerva's sexual assault. Actually, Isobel had been on edge since Galatea's four day disappearance and ever since then it had grown increasingly worse. She was fretting over everything to the point that she was making herself be paranoid and that was affecting her far more than she realised- or maybe she did. Sometimes he never knew that answer to that; it seemed to change more often than he'd like and he didn't know how to aid her on that regard. There really was nothing anyone _could_ do anyway, and the whole situation with Galatea was making everything worse, or so it seemed to Isobel. Robert never understood the point of keeping the woman away from Minerva- then again, not much ever made sense.

The Untergang didn't help matters either with them breathing down the Ministry's neck and looming over Hogwarts; the threats of the shadow group attempting to sneak their way into both locations was becoming more apparent as this year progressed. Oh yes, Robert read the Prophet, despite the Ministry's damnable rule. They had no authority on that regard anymore, especially with his immediate family inside his home. It had been the trial of the century, thanks to Galatea.

Robert smirked, remembering how all those pure-blood Slytherins had sniffed at the outcome, Tradisi too, of course- and that itself had been a victory.

"I'm thinking about bringing Cayden here," Isobel said quietly, interrupting Robert's thoughts as she lay in his embrace reading a book. They had made themselves comfortable on the settee near the fireplace close to the balcony that overlooked the foyer nearly an hour ago.

"Oh? I thought we had decided to lay low with all of them, prevent suspicion and to keep the risk of Untergang down."

"I know, but in all honestly, I think he'd be safer here. The Manor is unplottable, equipped with an anti-apparition jinx and the wards alert me to whenever someone is here. Besides, he should be here anyway, he has only a year left before he starts Hogwarts and then we'll see him even less than we do now. I miss him," she shifted slightly, looking up into Robert's perfect green eyes, "and I know you do too."

He smiled softly. "Hmm, I do indeed. I miss them all."

Isobel sighed. In all honesty, she felt guilty of the burden she placed upon him daily. To have three magical children during this time of crisis and not enough time to see them, or be the family he wished for was no doubt hard on him, and her _own_ situation didn't help in that regard.

Almost like a chime within her head, the ward set off a warning. Someone was here, someone forbidden. Isobel instantly sat up, her body was tense. "What in Merlin's name..."

Robert raised a brow as he placed his book down. He couldn't tell if it was fear or anger surging through their connection. "What is it?"

"_She's_ here."

"What?" he hurried to follow her as she walked determinedly down the stairs. He knew who it was purely by the tone of his wife's voice . They definitely hadn't been expecting the impromptu guest- and when they did, it was usually by Floo conversation and not an actual face-to-face confrontation. "What on Earth could she want?"

"I've no idea, but she'd_ better _have a damn good reason for coming here!"

Robert narrowed his eyes, he really disliked how Isobel continued to distrust the woman- especially after everything she had done for both of and he really couldn't blame the woman for wanting to know Minerva.

He placed a hand on his wife's shoulder as they neared the door. His touched always calmed her, made her really _think_ and God only knew how much she was going to need that tonight. The woman shook her head and took in a deep breath.

The minute Isobel opened the door, the elder witch was walking up the entrance stairs.

"What are you doing here?" Isobel hissed.

"Well, it is good to see you too," Galatea muttered dryly, with a tinge of melancholy on her lips. Her crystal eyes glanced over towards him. "Robert."

"Galatea," he nodded in return.

The elder witch looked back towards his wife with a grim expression. "We need to talk."

It was unclear to him if Isobel could see the sadness in Galatea's eyes, but it was obvious that she not impressed the instant she huffed. "Have you come to try and convince me that I'm still in the wrong once again?"

"You already know I have given up on _that,_ Izzy. I gave up _years_ ago."

Robert saw Isobel's lip slightly curl at the mention of her nickname. "Then what _are_ you here for?"

"You are going to be glad you did not destroy Tradisi's portrait, my dear," Galatea started, her voice, dark and cryptic. Robert hadn't seen the elder witch behave like this in a long time, although he hadn't actually seen her in nearly fourteen years. "That block _she_ placed on Minerva, the overload it caused, did more damage than we thought."

Robert's heart skipped a beat. Tradisi had done more than enough damage to his family, and he hated that he was so powerless to protect them- his wife and daughter in particular. Cayden and Malcom were relatively safe from all this mess.

Isobel's expression didn't change and it was impossible to tell what her exact feelings on the matter were even to her husband. "What do you mean, '_worse_'?"

He saw the hurt in the elder witch's eyes, and possibly the terror, but he wasn't sure exactly what had caused it; Isobel's lack of emotions, or the news she was about the deliver.

"Ever since _that day_, Minerva has not been able to shed a tear. I was told by Professor Dumbledore that she did not even shed _one_ after she was nearly raped."

Now, his wife reacted. There was a sliver of fear within her face as she motioned for Galatea to come inside, and was about to close the door when someone else popped into the Apparition line.

Robert watched as Isobel's hackles rose.

"You brought Helena here?" she spat, glaring at Galatea harshly. There was still no anger in his wife's eyes though, only the emotionless glaze steadily increasing as the years passed. It was so odd to Robert, but at the same time, he lived in a very odd world sometimes.

"I came of my own free will, Isobel," the Matron spoke, through her grey eyes were tinged with spite, as she briskly walked towards them.

"So, you still think you have a say in any of _this?"_

At this point, Robert was quite sure he could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Helena opened her mouth, ready to give Isobel a piece of mind, when Galatea placed a hand on the Matron's shoulder with a tight squeeze then shot a scornful glare at the hazel-eyed witch.

"She is involved with this just as much as you and I, Isobel, and you _know _it," the professor stated, very clearly doing her best to try to keep her anger out of her voice.

"Fine then," the younger witch growled, her lips pressed tightly together, "it's not like I could stop you even if I tried."

She turned on her heel and marched her way towards the Enchanted Hallway, muttering furiously under her breath.

Robert watched on as Galatea sighed, her pale blue eyes looking defeated before she glanced towards the Matron. "You really had to come?"

Helena lowered her voice to a whisper, looking sideways at Robert, who was trying to appear nonchalant. "If you even think, for one second, that I'm going to let her take advantage of you again as she has in the past, _then you are out of your mind!_ I'm sick and tired of you getting hurt, Galatea..."

The professor bobbed her head in solemn understanding and without another protest, then shut the door behind her.

Robert watched the two elder witches follow his wife with a heavy heart. He knew just how much Isobel had hurt them, and it saddened him that she had to stoop to those lows. He understood their anger- Helena's in particular -and if he was in their position, he'd have done the same thing. Truth be told, he didn't agree with what his wife had done, in fact, he hardly agreed with what she was currently doing, but his opinion didn't matter.

It was going to be a very long and strenuous night for everyone.

**October 31st, 1942:**

_It_ pulsed within the room, steadily increasing as the night continued to pass on. _It_ was twisting and contorting as _it _slowly tugged at her existence. A low, trembling whimper that echoed throughout the room, causing the entity to finally ripple back onto the physical plane.

_It_ was _need._

Suddenly, her thoughts snapped to life as her eyes fluttered open. Her body was nimble and prepared. The process wasn't as strange as the last time, which that Avrenim was thankful for, although she could do without the haunting murmurs that Rolanda was uttering as she writhed within her bed.

It was an instinct to go to her. She was drawn to the cause that had brought her to life, the _need._ Her hands, while slightly translucent and glowing, were very much solid as she clasped one of the stirring girl's twitching hands then placed another on her shoulder. Words, if she were able to use them, would have been rather helpful right now as her heart became heavy watching Rolanda struggle with her nightmare. It didn't take a Seer to know what it was about. Today was the anniversary of her attack.

Suddenly, the girl shot up, her golden yellow eyes round with terror, breathing hard and fast as she let out a cry. Her body trembled fiercely once again and a shiver ran down her spine as the her cold sweat was mingled with the air. The astral sat upon the bed, and immediately pulled the frightened girl to her. Rolanda didn't entirely realise it was Avrenim there. The entity looked so much like Minerva, and in her current state, she didn't notice the difference. At the moment, she was just glad to have someone to hold onto as she softly cried.

* * *

><p>Minerva awoke with the beginnings of an approaching headache, although it was soon apparent why as flashes of what the entity inside her had been up to during the early hours of the morning flickered through her mind. The whole ordeal was surreal, as if she had experienced exactly what her astral had- the feelings included.<p>

"Rola..." she murmured, still trying to wake up, as she turned within her bed to glance at her friend's bunk, but she wasn't there. "Rola?" Minerva called again, sitting up this time, her senses snapping awake as she ignited her magical awareness around the room. She eventually found her near the window.

"Oh pipe down, will you?" the hawk-eyed witch said as she made her way to the green-eyed witch. "Poppy's asleep, and Merlin knows she needs it, she's spending too many long hours in that damn Hospital Wing."

"Agreed, but are you all right? Avrenim came to you, you were having a bad dream..."

"Please, don't tell Poppy, she'll have a fit." Rolanda sighed, pulling her dressing gown closer as she sat down on Minerva's bed. "I've had them before, but not like this. This... I don't know where to begin, I felt and saw everything again; the Banshee clawing at me, the screaming, the blood." She shuddered. "I know it's been said before, but if you hadn't come, if Merrythought hadn't trained you, I'd be dead. Poppy, Pomona and you. We would have all been dead. I was so stupid for challenging Malfoy."

"Not stupid," Minerva wrapped her arms around her sister. "Naive and headstrong, maybe, but _not _stupid."

The hawk-eyed witch looked even more dejected at that. "I started that pattern again with Mikail, charging in and taking sides before thinking about the bigger picture."

"It's fine, Rola. We're all human and make mistakes, myself included."

Rolanda shook her head. "But this is regarding people's _lives_; your's and countless others that the Untergang is threatening. The severity of the situation should have awoke me to that."

"Rola, we've never been in a situation like this," Poppy's honey glazed voice came from behind as she walked towards them. "We're being thrown into a fire that we're not ready for. No one could really prepare us for something of this scale." The apprentice manoeuvred herself in front of her short haired sister, although the minute she looked into her eyes, she knew exactly what the underlying cause of Rolanda's morning behaviour was. "You had another nightmare, didn't you?"

"W-What? No, I-"

"Calm down, Rola," Poppy rested a hand on her sister's shoulder with a smirk. "I've known that you've had them for quite a while now. You can't hide anything from me."

"But you never said anything!"

Poppy shrugged, although a grin escaped her. "I didn't need to. I've slipped a small dose of Dreamless Draught in your afternoon tea when they started up again. I did it again last night though, so you shouldn't have had another dream..."

"I- um, I didn't drink it all last night."

"Rola! That's just makes your dreams far more realistic!"

Minerva laughed. "You know, if you had just told her beforehand, she might have co-operated without a struggle and none of this would have happened."

The apprentice huffed. "Yeah right. Both of you are just as equally stubborn and ridiculous about telling me things regarding your health and obeying me too when it comes to it, so I figured this was the best way to go about it."

The hawk-eyed witch shook her head, letting a smile escape her as she grabbed Poppy and Minerva, pulling them in for a tight, well deserved hug. "I love you guys."

"Here, here."

"Good morning everyone!" Augusta burst through the door, a bit more cheerful than normal. "It's letters galore today! Mini-Kitty, you have one from your father; and Rola, Xavier got through again!"

At that, the hawk-eyed witch immediately pulled away from the girls and ran over to the blonde witch. "You're kidding! He didn't think it would be for another month!"

"Well, he managed!"

Rolanda tore open the envelope with ease the minute she got her hands on it, unfolding the contents, and immediately began to read. Augusta handed Minerva her letter, who was still glaring at the blond witch for using that abominable nickname, however she placed it on the table to read later tonight. The smile upon Rolanda's lips combined with the deep blush had captured her curiosity and made it obvious that Xavier had sent a good report.

"What does it say?" Poppy prodded kindly.

"Oh, flattery mainly, and that if I have a hard day today that I should spend it with you lot, he doesn't want me wallowing and whatnot," she sighed happily and looked up at the girls. "So, does anyone have plans today? I think a broom ride around the pitch is called for."

Augusta held up her hands with a happy smile. "Taken, I'm afraid. Long awaited date with Kevin."

Minerva frowned. "I'd love to, but I promised Galatea I'd spend some time with Malcom and Cayden in Hogsmeade today."

"You've been needing to do that for a while, they're your brothers. Just make sure you're ready for the match on Tuesday." She winked at Minerva, then looked to Poppy, her eyes pleading as she stuck her bottom lip out. "_Please?"_

The apprentice threw a glare at Augusta. "You just _had_ to have a date with Kevin today, didn't you?"

The blonde Gryffindor ducked her neck in as she bit her lip to prevent laughter from escaping. "Sorry?" she tried.

Poppy sighed in defeat. "I did promise that I'd fly with you _'from dawn to dusk'_ that day, didn't I... Oh, all right."

Rolanda squealed and threw her arms around Poppy once more. "Thank you! Thank you! You are the best, and I promise you won't have to do anything stupid or reckless!"

"Uh huh, so why don't I believe you for a minute?" All four girls laughed. Soon enough, the time came for Minerva and Augusta to leave for their destinations, though it was not without the green-eyed witch suggesting Poppy send Madam Nurix a Patronus instead of running around the castle to find her.

"But, Minerva, we only learned the spell two weeks ago!"

"Yes, and you were both naturals!" Minerva said with a smile. "It's not that hard, just hold the happy memory within your thoughts as you tell it what to say and who to send it to. Just give it a try, and if it doesn't work, then you can do it the old fashioned way. Now, I'm off, so good luck!"

"You're really helpful sometimes!" Poppy hollered after her dark haired sister- prompting a chuckle from her as she left the Tower -then sighed and raised her wand. _"Expecto Patronum!"_

Last time, her Patronus had taken only partial form, and she wasn't sure exactly what it was, but this time as the misty creature spiraled around her, it was apparent that her's was a brown bear, especially when it roared a little.

Rolanda chortled. "I think it's quite fitting."

Poppy rolled her eyes. "I don't _bear_ you all around too much..."

"Oh, I disagree, especially with your healing spells," she teased. "Go on, send the message!"

With a sigh, the apprentice consented with a simple, short message, then sent it off, praying it would get to her mentor and she would understand her taking the day off. Especially this day.

* * *

><p>Minerva and Malcom met up near the gates along with the several others wanting to go to Hogsmeade that morning. As they were walking down to the village, they tried to decide whether Cayden would be at the Three Broomsticks, or in the back rooms of Honeydukes, although they were both fairly certain that Cayden would immediately decide the sweetshop- not only due his mighty sweet tooth, but because he would probably like to get away from the pub anyhow.<p>

Yet, when they got there to pick up the boy, he was nowhere to be found.

"Where could he be?" Malcom sighed. "He was jumping up and down with excitement yesterday when I reminded him."

"I don't know..."

"Ah, Mr McGonagall, Miss McGonagall," Rominara said as she came up from the children's den. "I was wondering when you'd arrive."

"Do you know where Cayden is?"

"He's with your mother. She came by this morning to take him out of Hogsmeade for a few hours."

Minerva pursed her lips, flashed a glance at her brother who rolled his eyes with a shake of the head and left.

Rominara raised a brow. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing to worry about, at least. Did our màthair say where she was going?"

"I'm afraid she didn't, so your guess is as good as mine. With Untergang on the watch, and her being an ex-Auror, I had told her it was unwise to take him outside the wards, but as for where she actually went, I don't know. Although, if you wish to catch them, they should be back around five."

The green-eyed Gryffindor bobbed her head and smiled politely. "I think I'll stop by then. Thank you for your time, Madam." She left the room, glancing around for Malcom, who was standing just outside. He looked just as frustrated as she felt inside. "You okay?"

The Ravenclaw shrugged as he uncrossed his arms. "Let's just get away from here. The Hog's Head is sounding appealing right now."

Minerva grimaced, she rather detested that shady place, but all things considered, it was probably the best option. The bartender was a gruff looking man, though he had a rather oddly vague similarity towards Professor Dumbledore- but he also looked quite like a goat. She decided the best way to describe him, was 'odd'. She ordered a Gillywater, and grimaced as Malcom ordered a Butterbeer. She still couldn't fathom why everyone liked that particular beverage, but she simply shrugged and sat down after wandlessly removing the dust from the seat and table.

Her brother was silent for a few moments, letting his frustrations ebb away. Both of them had been rather looking forward to this outing with Cayden, and yet, somehow, Isobel had managed to ruin it.

"Do you ever get the feeling that Màthair's playing favorites?" the Ravenclaw asked quietly, staring into his drink.

Minerva pursed her lips. "Do you ever get the feeling that it's more than that?"

"Màthair's been ignoring me more the past two years, and I've been returning the favor." Malcom shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I know I don't have much room to complain, she's been worse to you most of your life."

"Yes, she has." The green-eyed witch sighed.

"Do you know why?" her brother continued. "I mean, ever since Tradisi died-"

Minerva shivered at the woman's name, causing her brother to furrow his brows in concern.

"You all right?"

She waved his question away, she couldn't afford to be distracted- _this_ conversation had been avoided for far too long. "What do you remember of that _woman_, Malcom?"

The Ravenclaw's voice dipped lower. "I didn't like her from the start. She seemed _'off'_ somehow."

Minerva snorted, her hate for the witch- dead as she was -boiled into the surface. "Off indeed. She tried to have Màthair take me on a walk I'd never come back from."

"_What?" _Malcom almost stood straight up.

What his sister was accusing their mother of was preposterous and outlandish, but the solemn truth in her eyes made him accept it- Minerva wouldn't lie about such a thing. "What did Màthair do?"

The Gryffindor witch looked away, biting her lip. She contemplated about not telling him that Isobel had accepted the offer, after all, it was a very ridiculous notion and nothing had happened as a repercussion of it. There was also the deception that Isobel seemed genuinely concerned when Minerva had run away.

Coming to a decision, she looked at her brother. Malcom had to know, if anything to save himself if something were to happen

"She accepted it." She watched as her brother's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "I overheard the conversation. They went outside to discuss how to 'conduct' it. That's when I ran. I had to leave, I had to get out. I was so scared that she'd follow through with it."

"Do you think Màthair really would have? If Tradisi hadn't died that night and if you hadn't run away?"

The witch swallowed, suddenly realizing that she was shaking. The thought of her mother trying to kill her was hard to take- even with her current anger towards the woman. In fact, it was just unfathomable.

"I don't know. I... I'd like to think that she would have continued to protest, that she would have done _something_ else, but I can't help but wonder if I had stayed, she would have gave it a try..." Minerva shivered, her words failing her.

"Bloody hell." Malcom shook his head. "You know, I used to just think you two didn't get along because you used to use your magic all the time. I can't believe how wrong I've been." He clenched his fists but Minerva couldn't help but catch the sadness in his eyes. "Have we done something wrong? I keep thinking about it and I just get so confused."

"No," Minerva grasped her brother's hands and looked at him. "Malcom,_ we_ haven't done anything. It's Màthair who is in the wrong. I don't know why she's doing this. She's hiding something, maybe multiple things, and I'm going to discover them."

"You'll make things worse."

The witch shrugged. "I'd rather know the answers than live my life with questions about a woman who, at one point, wanted me dead."

That made Malcom purse his lips.

"Speaking of questions; Min, have you ever experienced something- it's so odd. I don't know what it is. It's like another entity or mind or-"

"Astral," she interjected with a nod. "And yes, I have. It's a hereditary ability that generally manifests itself at the age of eleven. When did yours activate?"

"When I was ten. I- er my_ astral_, heard Màthair doing something in the Enchanted Hall. I think she was yelling at someone, but it couldn't hear them loud enough to understand them. The whole thing was weird."

"Did you tell Màthair?"

"Yeah, she said that I must have dreamed it." The Ravenclaw shook his head dismissively. "But I couldn't have, it felt _real,_ and besides, I've had a few other experiences with it since then, and I _definitely _wasn't dreaming."

"I had one this morning, Avrenim woke up to Rola having a nightmare."

Malcom drummed his fingers on the table. "Do you think Cayden might have activated his yet?"

The witch smiled and pulled out a scroll from her handbag. "I know he did. Here, take a look. I have much more information on them as well..."

* * *

><p>Poppy and Rolanda waited in the tower for an hour and a half before finally giving up on receiving Helena's Patronus. The apprentice had wanted to go and make sure the misty spell-bear had completed its assignment, but her hawk-eyed sister- who was positively convinced that Poppy had done it right -insisted on getting down to the pitch before noon struck. So, the apprentice had given up, though that didn't stop her from worrying about it- even though her thoughts were intensely focused on preventing herself from falling off the blasted broom.<p>

In all actuality, flying was more of a stress release for Poppy this time around. There was so much that she and Rolanda had no control over, and strangely, this helped her let go of it. She may not have race underneath the stands like an utter maniac as her sister did, but she did fly a bit faster than she would generally have been comfortable with. The two enjoyed defying gravity until the late afternoon, then before returning inside to work on their History assignment in their common room. It was nearly five by the time Augusta came back, and with her, came a message that Madam Nurix was outside the tower wanting to speak to her.

"Was she upset or worried? Did she say anything about a Patronus?" Poppy asked uneasily.

The blonde witch shook her head. "She seemed like her normal self, and no, she didn't mention a Patronus."

The apprentice pursed her lips and looked to Rolanda, who smiled in reassurance and squeezed her hand. "Go on, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. If she didn't get your Patronus, I'm sure she'll understand what happened."

"What if it's about Min?"

"It won't be," the hawk-eyed witch assured her. "Min would have contacted us if there was something going on, or we would have felt it. Now get on with you."

Poppy sighed, but gave in, knowing that her sister was right. She kissed Rolanda's cheek as she muttered a quiet thank you, as she left the room with worried thoughts streaming through her mind. Yet, the moment the portrait opened and revealed Helena's calm face coupled with a smile, it was quite obvious that nothing was wrong.

"You have a lovely Patronus, dear, although it gave a few of my patients quite a startle when it roared for my attention."

Poppy's eyes widened. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't think about-"

"It's quite all right dear." The Matron chuckled as she placed a hand upon her apprentice's shoulder. Poppy followed without a word as they walked down the corridor. "I found it rather amusing to be honest, and a good change of pace. Now, while on the topic, I should apologize if I kept you waiting for a response. I haven't talked to you about Patronus communication. I should have, considering Miss McGonagall learned it and undoubtedly informed you all of the method, but it slipped my mind."

The Gryffindor raised a brow in question. "What do you mean?"

Helena's grey eyes darted around for a moment, checking that there was no-one nearby, then lowered her voice. "I don't use my Patronus unless in self-defense or _dire _emergencies."

"Why not?"

"A Patronus can change when the caster's heart has been captured in love or if the caster suffers a great trauma of some kind. A Patronus that has changed is a very powerful source of information and particularly useful for enemies during these dark times. I have no doubt the Untergang would _love_ to use it against me, against us." She added that very last bit in quietly.

Poppy's eyes sparkled as she pieced everything together. She had read about Patronuses changing form before, and she knew that it took a powerful form of love and absolute devotion for the form to change. Whoever Helena loved, they had affected her so deeply that it touched her soul. "So you sacrifice that spell in order to keep yourself and the person you love, safe."

"Precisely," Helena said as she slowed her pace to a halt. She looked towards her apprentice trying to hide an amused smile. "Now, I did not exactly come here to discuss _my_ personal li-"

The Head Matron gasped as someone behind her grabbed her shoulder. Poppy hardly had time to think before Helena's wand was out and ready to blast the man behind her, before the medi-witch realised who he was.

"Bloody hell, _Broc_ [Badger]!" she hissed, shoving the dark clothed wizard back a few inches as she did. Her eyes flared in shock and outrage as she quickly signaled her apprentice to not fire. It didn't stop Helena from yelling at the man, however. "_What_ in Merlin's name gave you the idea to start sneaking around and grabbing me like that? You know very well that-"

"Ouch, would yeh be quiet for a bloomin' second?" the man growled. "There's been another attack by the Chamber! It's a young Ravenclaw boy, near the Witch's Eye staircase, down a floor."

Both witches blanched, although Poppy was still quite stiff and her wand was still pointed at the man. He seemed to have come out of thin air, and to be frank, the fact that she couldn't see his face under his hood was making her very uneasy.

Helena recuperated faster than the younger witch, no doubt from the years of experience handling such tense situations. "T-Thank you, _Broc _[Badger]. You better round the Spideagan."

"Aye, that's the idea. Now yeh get a move on!"

The man dashed off in the opposite direction without a whisper of noise, leaving a rather confused Poppy in his wake.

"Come on, dear," Helena's voice was grave as she placed a hand on her apprentice's shoulder. Poppy looked up at her, still a bit dazed and confused with what was happening, then looked back towards the man- only to see that he had disappeared once again like a phantom.

"W-Where did he come from? Where did he go?" Poppy breathed as she and the Matron raced down the corridor. "Helena, who was that?"

"I'll explain later," she said over her shoulder as they ran down the stairs. "He's a good friend, despite how absurd he can be sometimes. You can trust him."

"Is he one of the Nightingales? The _Spideagan_?"

"Yes, he's one of the leaders and damn good at what he does too."

When they neared the boy, it was very clear that his condition was the same as the first victim and Poppy found it just as haunting. He seemed to be frozen in time, and the cold irony of it all was that he looked to be checking his pocket watch.

"Sweet Merlin," Helena breathed as she shook her head. They were about to examine the boy, when Poppy suddenly caught a glimpse of Mikail's gaze, shocking her completely before he disappeared down the spiral staircase. Every fiber in her being seemed to radiate such intense emotion that she wasn't exactly sure what she was feeling. There was something going on here and it had all started when _he_ showed up at Hogwarts. Everything seemed to point to Mikail - his almost instant attraction to Minerva; Untergang's search, the whole business with Minerva's memories, and him agreeing to help her without much reason other than 'honor'- whatever that meant. And now he was here, near the attack site. It all pointed towards him and whatever in Merlin's name he was hiding, and she couldn't help but think that maybe, he already knew that the Untergang was actually after Minerva.

_Forget being cautious, we all know he's up to something!_

"Excuse me, Madam," Poppy muttered, then tore down the hall, leaving her mentor looking bewildered.

"Poppy?"

"I'll meet you in the Hospital Wing," she called over her shoulder.

_Hopefully..._ she thought as she ran down the lengthy spiral staircase once more. Her fear had turned into a determined force that put her into an overdrive, the likes of which she hadn't experienced since racing after Rolanda in the Forbidden Forest. She could see him over the railing, casually walking at his own pace. If she wasn't so focused on what she was going to do to him, Poppy might have found it odd.

"Lutrov!" she shouted. He turned around, his expression almost confused. Almost. She had her wand in hand, pointed at him, as she steadily drew near to him. Her hazel eyes narrowed in a determined and almost hateful stare something which clearly confused, or perhaps frightened him- she could never be absolutely sure with him.

"Poppy, vhat are you-"

"Don't play games with me!" she spat. "I know you're hiding something! Ever since you came here, this school and our lives have all gone to hell. I don't know what your intentions are here, but I sure as hell don't like it. So, let me make this very clear," she pressed her wand at his neck, not too painfully, but enough to get her point across. "If _anything_ happens to my sisters- apparent fault or not -I will personally see to it that you are hunted down. Is that understood?"

"Vha-" he shook his head, trying to grasp what exactly was occurring. "You think I'm here to harm them?"

"I don't know what to think, I just know that you're up to something and I don't like it! Do you understand?"

Mikail's hazel eyes were still wide in disbelief, but nodded as best as he could with her wand still at his throat, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other. Eventually Poppy managed to yank herself from his tawny brown gaze and turn on her heel, disappearing without another word. Her thoughts raced as she marched back to the Hospital Win. She had thought he would fight back, and it truth, a small part of her wanted him to, despite knowing she was probably no match for him. She just simply hoped that she could put on such a ferocious display again when the time called for it.

* * *

><p>The moment they saw<em> her<em> and Cayden walking towards The Three Broomsticks, Malcom and Minerva immediately left Hog's Head. Although the young wizard was rather determined to leave the situation be and ignore the pair, Minerva had other ideas.

_Cayden?_ The boy stopped for a moment, tilted his head, then looked around, except he turned in the opposite direction. Minerva smirked._ Turn around, you silly boy._

And he did. The moment his big green eyes set upon his siblings, they lit up.

"Minvey! Malcom!" he shouted, then rushed towards them, predictably forcing Isobel to glance at where her boy was running to- and if her emotionless expression was anything to go by, she wasn't entirely pleased at the sight. There was hardly any light within her eyes, no spark. It had been like that before, of course, but nothing remotely as bad as compared to this. It was unnerving, to be frank.

Cayden crashed into Minerva's arms with a mighty hug around her middle.

"Hey there you are, we missed you," she said softly as she ruffled his hair and then kissed his forehead.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just I haven't seen Màthair in a while and-"

"You couldn't choose who to see?" Malcom said darkly, staring in Isobel's direction. She had abandoned her post of looking at her trio of children and was now talking to Madam Rominara.

Minerva shot him a glare. "That's not fair, Malcom. It's not his fault Màthair came today."

The wizard huffed in disagreement, but said no more.

"Minvey, Màthair's going to take me home!" Cayden said excitedly.

_That_ got her attention.

"She's _what?"_

"It's only 'til the holidays are over, after that, I'll be here all the time."

The Gryffindor looked at him with untold emotions swirling in her eyes as she fought between her horror and anger.

"But you _can't._.. it's not safe..." she muttered quietly, although she finally stopped and simply focused her attention on her mother, who she realised was now in an argument with the pub owner.

"Yeh_ know_ it ain't safe out there, what with Untergang huntin' ex-Aurors!" Rominara said, gesturing angrily to the eastern sky.

The dark haired witch tilted her head to the side in annoyance, making it very clear that she wanted to be done with this conversation. "The Manor has an anti-apparition jinx and the wards alert me-"

"As does Hogsmeade, but that's not stoppin' them from comin' here!" The woman's voice was etched with well placed fear. "Damn it, I don't want yeh, Robert, or that little boy bein' added to my list of dead! This blasted war is bad enough!"

"You won't have to," Isobel stated firmly, but the blonde witch wouldn't have any of it. She grabbed the woman's shoulders in desperation.

"Don't yeh understand? You will be _alone_ with _no one_ to help yeh if things take a turn for the worst!"

"Minerva," Malcom touched her shoulder. "Let's go. I've got a bad feeling about this." However, Minerva brushed him off, she wanted to hear this.

Her mother was continuing to be ridiculously impassive, "-am also under the impression that Hogsmeade is nowhere near as safe as it once was. I'll take my chances, Nara."

"What's gotten into yeh, Izzy?" the blonde witch asked, directed more as a counter to the conversation and to stop the dark haired woman from leaving just yet. "Years ago yeh would have sent yer children away forever if there was a threat such as this, now ye're willingly takin' yer youngest son into more danger than before!"

Isobel stiffened. Her body language indicated that she was furious, and yet, her facial expression remained passive beyond comprehension. "And _you _used to agree with me unconditionally!"

Rominara clenched her fists, her voice dropping menacingly low. "Don't pull _that_ on me. Don't yeh _dare. _Not with what's at stake! I'm just tryin' ter look after my best friend and that precious little boy of yers!"

"Minerva, let's go!" Malcom hissed in his sister's ear, his fear of confronting their mother was growing steadily. "I don't want to be anywhere near _her_ right now!"

The Gryffindor witch sighed and tore her attention away from the intense argument that was brewing. In all honestly, she didn't either. There was too much at stake and she didn't trust her emotions right now. Not with everything else that was going on. Regretfully, she looked down at her little brother, peering into his wide, green eyes.

"Cayden, we're going to leave now, okay?"

"But-"

"You can always talk to me," Minerva interjected quickly. "If _anything_ goes wrong, someone will find you and keep you safe, but you have try to tell me, all right?"

Cayden's lip quivered a little in fear. He didn't understand why his sister was acting like there was something out there to hurt him. He really didn't want to leave her, or Malcom for that matter, but he really did miss his mother and father. "Okay, Minvey, but I'll still see you for Christmas, right?"

The question was asked so innocently and willingly, that Minerva was struck speechless. She didn't know what to say. It didn't matter though, not when Professor Beery and Professor Slughorn came bursting out of The Hog's Head with a wolf Patronus that was beginning to fade. At the same time, a brilliant red flare soared into the sky and Mr Pringle started yelling out a terrible shriek from behind them.

"Attack! Attack! There's been another attack! The Chamber's monster has attacked again!"

Those words sparked more chaos than anyone could imagine. There was screaming in every which direction as students and children alike started panicking. Somewhere, and somehow, Cayden had been lost from her grip and fear rose within Minerva's mind, but it quickly dwindled as she caught a glimpse of Isobel managing to grab him from the frantic swarm of people.

"SILENCE!" Slughorn bellowed with his wand pointed at his throat, amplifying his voice. The crowd obeyed, although a few of the little ones were still sobbing. "All Hogsmeade children, quickly and quietly return to your dwellings. Prefects, Head Boy and Head Girl, please help those who need it. Now, the rest of the Hogwarts students, please follow Professor Beery back to the castle immediately!"

Minerva saw Isobel vanish with Cayden, undoubtedly by portkey, and could not help but feel completely helpless. Part of her was happy that her little brother was gone from here, hopefully now free from the Untergang ever kidnapping him because of her, yet at the same time she was afraid that their mother's negligence would cost the family a lot more than what they could bare.

* * *

><p>When Madam Nurix finally saw her apprentice again there was an odd smile playing at the corner of the young witch's lips that caused the to Matron raise a brow in concern. "Everything all right, dear?"<p>

"Yes, for the moment, I dare say so." Poppy looked over the the newly admitted victim and her smile vanished. "It really is the same thing, isn't it? Petrification without a counter-curse?"

Helena narrowed her eyes, noting the rapid change of subject, but decided not to press it at the moment. "So it would seem. Whomever, or _what_ever, is behind these attacks is doing it methodically and with a purpose of focusing it upon Muggle-borns."

The apprentice bit her lip as flashes of her sisters being petrified in such a manner filled her mind- particularly Minerva, due to her father being a Muggle, and Pomona, whose mother was Muggle-born.

"Merlin's beard, could this year get _any_ worse?" Poppy breathed. Her mentor smiled sadly then gently squeezed her shoulder in mutual affection and understanding. Suddenly, the Hospital Wing door flew open, causing the young healer to jump. The Matron, however, remained calm, no doubt used to her room being bombarded by now.

"Madam Nurix," Professor Dippet called as he, his Deputy and Professor Merrythought all entered the ward wearing rather grim expressions, "what has happened?"

"Exactly what I suspected, Headmaster. The monster has struck again. Petrification without a means to reverse it."

There was a grave silence after that for several moments. Merrythought's crystal blue eyes slowly wandered over towards the boy and would have clearly buckled at the sight had the Matron not caught her.

"Eric Powell... he is a second year Ravenclaw, Muggle-born," the elder witch murmured softly to herself as she shook her head in grief. The strict professor facade was gone, washed away by seeing one of _her_ students in such a state. Hardly anyone knew just how much she really did care for them. While Poppy would always hear about Merrythought's kindness and compassion from Minerva, seeing it was a completely different thing. It still shocked her a little, but it was also touching to say the least. "He liked toying with his pocket watch. I think his father gave it to him, he never let it out of his sight."

"Oh, the watch! Just a moment," Madam Nurix ran into her office, leaving everyone rather bewildered for a moment until she returned with the silver device in her hand.

"Mr Powell was poised as if he was checking his watch. When I took it off I noticed something rather... _odd." _She gave it to Professor Dumbledore who was known to have a fascination with Muggle technology. If it wasn't for the severity of the situation, his sapphire eyes would surely have lit up in excitement. "Look inside, Albus. The Muggle gadgets, they've melted!"

The Deputy tapped the front twice with his index finger and the thin layer of glass Vanished. A trail of fresh, hissing steam spiraled its way out of the watch. Poppy shivered at the sight and noted that Professor Merrythought flinched as well, as a vile and haunting wave of eeriness filled the air.

"What could have done this?" Professor Dippet asked the auburn haired wizard quietly.

"This was not done by a wand, or else the glass would have been melted as it was not removed beforehand." Dumbledore shook his head in defeat. "It would seem that my theory of it being a creature is correct, however. Now, as to _what_ did this, I am just as deeply puzzled as all of you."

"The effect must have been instantaneous," the Defensive Arts professor spoke, no longer lingering in grief, but rather showed a cool, calm collectedness that was no doubt garnered from her vast experience as an Auror. Poppy could almost see the gears turning as the elder witch ran through the situation, adding in the facts almost like an equation. "No person, nor creature, could have Petrified Mr Powell and then... then done _that_ to the watch without someone overhearing or seeing it happen."

Professor Dippet took off his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose as he muttered under his breath. "Merlin help us all..."

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, for those who were wondering, 'defying gravity' was intended to be a small Wicked reference :D<br>**

**Next time: A memory triggers Minerva to confront Galatea about a man who has been dead for seventeen years.**

**Hope you enjoyed and please review!  
>~LinK<strong>


	31. Revelations of Different Kinds

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**~To my anonymous reviewers:** I don't know who you are, but thank you! I really, really, appreciate hearing from you even if I can't reply lol

**~I love my wonderful betas! **They put up with my ridiculous tendency to make things so much longer than I ever intended. I love them to bits and they're amazing and I don't even want to contemplate what this story would look like without them (scary thought indeed).  
><strong>Beta #2 [Spin]:<strong> I know it wouldn't look as colourful and pretty without our lovely highlighters! :P

**~For the sake of all things good (also known as my nonexistent sanity): **_Athair_ = Father, and _Seanair_ = Grandfather. They will not be translated because I don't do it with Màthair and Seanmhair (it looks weird if I do it solely for them...)  
>Also, <strong>Hogwarts has yearbooks.<strong> No arguments. You want a sane LinK. (Yeah Spin! :P lol)

**~My thoughts, prayers and tears are yet again with Denver, Colorado, my hometown. There are no words for the atrocity that has occurred.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 29 - Revelations of Different Kinds<br>**

**October 31st (continued):**

It was nearly midnight by the time Minerva finally crawled into bed. This afternoon had been an absolute nightmare. She still had a headache from trying to help the sobbing children in Hogsmeade, not to mention that she had been completely paranoid beyond measure. She was positive that there had been someone following her, watching her every move ever since she had started helping the kids. In fact, she had been so sure of their presence, that she had even been close to contacting Galatea and telling her about it because it had unnerved her so. Amongst all the chaos, it would have been a _perfect_ opportunity for the Untergang to make their move.

But nothing had happened, thank Merlin, and she had made it back to Hogwarts in one piece to begin her Prefect patrol with Poppy. There were double the amount of teacher than joined them tonight, but unfortunately, Galatea was not one of them.

As Minerva and Poppy climbed up to their dormitory at the top of Gryffindor Tower in silence, the dark haired witch couldn't help but send a pulse through the mirror once or twice. She figured the woman was busy, probably organizing Nightingale affairs after this latest attack and informing poor Eric Powell's parents of the condition of their son.

She quietly said her good nights, though the other two girls were already asleep, and turned on her side. It was then that she saw the letter from her father still sitting unopened on her nightstand. Minerva let out a soft and exhausted groan as she summoned the parchment to her, too tired to maneuver herself to grab it manually and consequently disturb Mico in the process. She didn't bother with casting a Lumos, instead she let her night vision take over while she opened and unfolded the letter as a yawn escaped her.

_Darling Minnie,_

_I realise you are very busy with your studies, and while I still do not know exactly all that is involved, I want you to know that I am still deeply proud of you. You've been ever so strong with this war and the tension it is bringing upon our worlds, along with the events of this year. I know you and your màthair are not getting along at the moment and it saddens my heart to see it. I wish I could tell you just how proud you make me. I wish I could protect you from all that life will hand you. I, more than anyone, know that bad things happen to those who do not deserve it, and the Good Lord knows that I fear whatever dark cloud the future has in store for all of us._

_We haven't exactly talked about what you plan to do after Hogwarts. I know your màthair wants you to go into research, but I just can't see you doing that. You're too much like me, I believe, especially in wartime. But God forbid, I can't help but pray your hopes aren't set on doing anything to help with the war effort. If you were a Muggle they wouldn't allow you to go, and forgive a worried man, but I sometimes wish you were for that sake alone. I lost my brother to this war, Minnie, and while you never knew him, he was a very good man with a special place in my heart and I miss him terribly. I don't want to lose you, or anyone else, to this God forsaken war._

_I think I ought to warn you that your màthair plans to bring Cayden back to the Manor until the holidays are over. I know that you will miss him, he writes about you doing the best you can to take time out of your schedule to visit him every week, and it warms my heart to hear it. I hope to see you during the holidays too, and I pray that you're keeping safe. Speaking of which, if things do ever take a turn for the worst with the Untergang, either here at the Manor or at Hogwarts, just know that no matter what happens, I will always love you and that I am so proud of you, my dear. Proud beyond any words that I could possibly write. Take care, be safe, and please convey my love to Malcom._

_With love,  
>Your Papa.<em>

Minerva let the letter slowly fall from her hands as her chest became heavy with emotion. There would be no sleep for her tonight- not after that letter.

She'd have Poppy or Rolanda write her response tomorrow, it was too much for her to even contemplate how her father would react when she informed him that she would not be returning home for Christmas while being unable to explain the true reason why. And she definitely didn't want to think about eventually informing him that she _did_ plan on going into the war, the very war that Robert had lost his brother in and one that his daughter was, unbeknownst to him, already involved in.

* * *

><p><strong>November 5th, 1942:<strong>

Over the course of this week, Minerva had been seeing Malcom with Hagrid much more than usual, which meant just about every minute he could get the chance. The two were considerably close by now, she noticed, and was rather glad that both boys had each other to confide in during these dark times. Other than their mother, he was having to deal with the young Ravenclaw girl named 'Myrtle'. She was constantly fawning over him and making attempts to get his attention, which unfortunately lead to her being harassed for it by her fellow classmates and then her fleeing to the bathroom in pitiful sobs. Minerva had taken it upon herself to stop the harassment several times, and even tried to calm down the girl and coax her into attending the rest of her classes, but it was no secret that this poor muggle-born girl was _the_ outcast of her grade, even more than Hagrid.

As for Cayden, the boy had contacted her a few times, mainly to make sure everything was all right at Hogwarts. He was understandably worried about her and Malcom, and from what he told her, their father was too. According to her little brother, Robert was apparently talking about withdraw his eldest children from Hogwarts for their safety, but Isobel would calmly state that it 'wasn't an option'. Minerva couldn't blame him when he told her that it was odd, she found it rather peculiar as found it all odd and Minerva didn't blame him. He hadn't been exposed to their máthair's manipulation like his siblings had and was generally oblivious to their her cold nature. She wasn't sure if she'd rather him stay that way for a while or warn him about it all. Would it not be better that he stayed free from knowing what kind of a person their mother really was sometimes? In this case, his ignorance was probably for the best. He was so young and innocent, but above all he was her little brother and she would do anything to protect him.

Even now, entering the fifth day since the attack, the castle was just barely recovering from the chaos. There was still a great sense of grave, grim, emotion around the halls, even tonight. Had there been no abominable monster lurking about the castle just waiting for the next chance to strike, the students would be positively excited for the traditional fireworks and bonfire. The first years, with their innocence, were a little more excited than the rest of the student body; the second years were still in shock; while third and up, they were scared and rightfully so. Just about everyone was doing their best to not cause trouble, even the typical pranksters knew this was not the time for games. Prefect patrols were doubled, curfew was standard for everyone by nightfall, and the teachers seemed to be giving everyone more homework in an effort to keep the students busy- which really wasn't helping anyone.

As for healing and trying to move on from the harrowing event, the _Daily Prophet_ reporters have been making it dreadfully difficult for everyone the past few days. They were constantly disrupting the students with relentless questions and it was getting on everyone's nerves. It did not help that both Professor Dumbledore and the Headmaster have been gone most of this week, both doing their best to deal with the Governors. Professor Merrythought seemed to be more or less taking charge of the castle while they were away, and it was clear to Minerva that if it was up to her, Galatea would have banished the reporters from Hogwarts before they even arrived. According to Galatea, the Headmaster was under the impression that they could do no harm and somehow would reassure the world that Hogwarts had the situation under control.

Mikail had been less furtive after the attack, something that the girls were thankful for. Minerva was still unhappy with Poppy for what she had done to him a few nights before, however, she definitely understood the need to set a few things straight with him. This was a time of great uncertainty, where boundaries and mistrust were rife, and sometimes those blurry lines needed to be made clear. Yet, Mikail's reaction to it all confused, yet eased them them all the same. He remained as he always was- cool, calm, collected, as if he had nothing to hide -which set as a reminder to them all that he was still a mystery to solve.

Yesterday, Minerva and Mikail had managed to escape to the Room of Requirement after supper. They had time to 'map' three adaquels before Minerva had to leave to meet Galatea at her office. She had been looking forward to spending time with the woman after everything that had happened this week, but after she and Mikail mapped out the second memory she wasn't as excited as she should have been. The new memory had been delicately suppressed, much like them all, but this one was peculiar in a number of ways. It had not been erased, and as far as Mikail could tell, it had not been tampered either; it was simply hidden from her knowledge. It was intriguing before, but with the image of her mother visibly shedding tears at a grave site, it became a priority to unlock it. Never in her life had she seen her mother cry, and that was reason enough for the dark haired witch to want that memory _now._ She had to know what had caused her mother to want to only suppress, not erase it from her daughter's memory, but more importantly she wanted to know what had caused her mother such grief.

Galatea had caught on to her pupil's distant thoughts and immediately rearranged her plans in order to teach Minerva how to hide her presence from another's magical awareness today instead of what she had planned. It wasn't terribly difficult, but it was something that the Gryffindor had wanted to learn for a while and it proved a meaningful distraction to all that was going through her head. It worked quite well for the time being, Minerva had to admit. She rather enjoyed working with her mentor once more on magic, learning more of the techniques that the elder witch had discovered and invented during her time as an Auror.

Today, the press had been worse than ever. Especially when they interrupted her Transfiguration class, where the substitute teacher was powerless to stop them. It was highly aggravating, especially for the students who had intended to use this hour as a means of studying for their test next week. But the moment a journalist walked over to Minerva and a couple of others began questioning the rest of the students about the Untergang, she had enough. The dark haired Prefect stood up in a cold defiance and sternly informed them that they were interrupting their studies. The manner of which she had spoken in, her furious glare and strong stature resonating confidence, had baffled the reporters as she told them off. They muttered a few things, although nothing apologetic to be sure, and then left. When the doors closed, most of the students looked up at her with wide eyes, until Mr Thomas let out a low whistle.

"Merlin's beard, McGonagall, yeh just hounded them reporters like Professor Merrythought would!"

Minerva blinked a few times, then realised he was right. She _had_ acted exactly as her mentor would have, highly commanding and enforcing a little fear within her opponent's boots. She had to force herself not to smile. "Yeah, well, it worked, didn't it?"

"Fair point," Thomas said with a smile. "Do it more often, those blokes aren't normally on the wrong end of such vitriol!"

There was an agreeing chuckle amongst the class, even from Mikail, as they went back to their books. It was very clear they _all _just wanted things to go back to normal as much as she did.

After class, despite cautionary glances from the girls, Minerva and Mikail started on their way to the secluded room once more as the crowd dispersed for their common rooms and afternoon activities, although it seemed that her defiance against the reporters had stirred up something of an interest in herself.

"Ah, Miss McGonagall," A rogue journalist was there to meet them the instant she and the wizard rounded the corner. He was a wizard in a lime green suit wearing a distinguished red tartan tie and, combined with his sly smile, he seemed to scream 'snake'.

Mikail snarled. "Vhat do you vant? Ve are busy."

The man's expressive eyebrows shot up as another smile tugged at his lips. "Oh, oh, now, what have we here? Is this the foreign exchange student from Russia? Yes, I'm quite sure of it! You're all over the news-"

"No, I'm not-"

"Ah! But how would you know that, hmm?" he tapped his lips with his red feathered quill. "Students aren't permitted to read the Daily prophet."

"For your information, _Sir,_ it isn't forbidden for us to read it, they just aren't sent into the castle anymore," the green-eyed Gryffindor corrected him coldly. "Now if you don't mind, we'll be off."

She started to brush past him, but he started tutting. "But I do mind, Miss McGonagall. You see, the Ministry wants your story."

That made her freeze on the spot. She whipped her head around. _"Mine?_ What would they want with _my_ story?"

"We all find you rather interesting, especially since the Minister thinks you're the next best candidate for the Aurors!"

The witch narrowed her eyes, controlling her heartbeat. The man was just trying to get a rise from her, see what he could find and stir up trouble. "That's not too surprising, my grades prove it. Now if you please-"

"But if I could-"

"The lady vants you to leave her alone," Mikai growled, stepping in front of her. The man narrowed his eyes as another sly, devilish smile appeared on his lips.

"It isn't wise to upset a reporter, Mr Lutrov, especially with _your _past."

"Leave - that - boy - _alone!"_ thundered a voice to the left. It was harsh beyond belief, yet, it was still recognisably Galatea's. Minerva glanced towards her beloved mentor storming towards them with a blazing fury present in her crystal blue eyes- if she was honest, it was little bit frightening even for her to see the elder witch in such a rage. "How _dare_ you threaten _anyone_ on these grounds, much less a student!_ How - __**dare - **__you?"_

The reporter glanced in the woman's direction and straightened his posture as if bracing for an attack. "He's been to Durmstrang, surely you realise the potential-"

"Just because he's from Durmstrang _doesn't_ mean he's involved! He is a student, and I will _not_ let you threaten him, or _anyone else,_ in such a manner ever again!"

Mikail tugged at Minerva's arm. "Come on, let's go, ve can escape unnoticed if we leave _now."_

Part of her wanted to hear Galatea continue to berate this fool; despite it being a little frightening, it was highly amusing to see his terrified face and hear him stutter. However, her memories took priority and they needed to get to the Room of Requirement without prying eyes watching them, so she complied and they quickly left the still brewing scene. When they finally entered the secret chamber, both of them let out a sigh of relief.

"Merlin's beard, I can't believe Merrythought did that," the foreign wizard breathed as he casually leaned against the wall, crossed his arms and shook his head in disbelief.

"Did what?" she asked.

His tawny eyes flicked in her direction, but they betrayed nothing of his feelings. "Defend me like that, defend my past, especially after what my mentor did to her."

Minerva, while aware of the basic details of the story, couldn't help her curiosity overcoming her. She raised a brow in pretend confusion. "What do you mean? What happened?"

The wizard sighed. "I don't know the exact details, Master Karkaroff vas never keen on letting me know much, but from vhat I do know it vasn't a pretty outcome. My mentor and Professor Merrythought had originally teamed up to kill a mass murdering Dark _v_itch who vas on the loose. From vhat I know, inferi vere involved and they vere deep in the Vladivostok Fortress when something happened. Karkaroff betrayed her, led her into a trap that resulted in- what he thought to be -her drowning. As he left, however, he knew he vas seriously vrong the moment he caught a glimpse of her animagus limping and bleeding to_v_ards the forest. Granted, he didn't do anything to help save her, but he didn't kill her right then and hence spared her life."

"But, why would he do that?"

Mikail narrowed his eyes. "He had _honor,_ that's vhy. I quote him, _'anyone who could survive that trap, deserves to live and fight another day'_. It's a mutual respect of _v_arriors, something that's all but died out- no thanks to the Untergang."

Minerva shook her head, slowly musing over his words. She still didn't understand this whole 'honour' system, but she understood respect, and if it was the reason Galatea was still alive, then it was a good thing in her eyes. A thought occurred to her as she looked over at Mikail.

"Mikail, did the Untergang ever show interest in you?"

"Constantly," his voice became harsh and his eyes flashed with spite. "My father hated it and he did vhat he could to keep me free from their grasp... Ve vere luckier than most. I don't know if you realise just how horrible the Untergang can be if they do not get who they _v_ant. Threats happen, demands are made- they vill stop at _nothing_ to get vhat they vant. Some children are kidnapped, or '_accidentally_' orphaned so they may be taken into the ranks. Many have little or no choice but to train and become heartless, twisted, malevolent killers..."

He trailed off, and Minerva could see the hurt in his eyes. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him, while also a little scared for her own sake. Cayden was off with their parents, and if the sinister group ever did find out who she was to them, the possibility of them going after her family to get to her was even more likely. The green-eyed witch shivered at the thought, licking her dry lips. It wasn't something she wanted to think about.

"Let's change topic, shall we?" she said quietly, trying to coax him into getting on with the lesson.

"Yes, I think ve should," he relaxed a bit more, then walked over to the table with the scrolls of her previous mappings.

"I'd like to recover the second memory we mapped, instead."

Mikail turned to face her with a frown on his face. "Minerva, ve have only mapped three of your nine-"

"Which is exactly why I think it would be a good idea to start," the green-eyed witch walked over to him and opened the scroll containing that particular memory. "You said that this one was simply suppressed, and those are easier to bring to the surface, are they not?"

Mikail nodded reluctantly, causing a small smile to appear on her lips as she handed him the scroll. "Then let's proceed. I just want to know that this will work. Just one memory, Mikail, that's all I ask. After that, we can continue with the mapping."

The wizard looked at her hard for several moments then sighed in defeat. "All right, but only because ve are doing a suppression- it doesn't involve you falling into a dead sleep seven minutes after a memory is reconstructed, but ve vill get to those details later."

"So how's this going to work exactly? Will you see it?"

"Not in the method that I'll be using. I'll bring the memory forward, there might be a bit of pain, but only momentarily. The instant I retract, you'll see the memory play out before your eyes as if you're reliving it."

Minerva bobbed her head in agreement, encouraging him to continue with the process. He took a few minutes to study the location of the memory and which key points he needed to bring forth, then placed his fingers upon her temples and whispered the spell.

Like the times before, the witch's head was involuntarily thrown back as light burst through her senses and a surreal feeling crashed over her again. She felt him picking and prying at her memories, searching the stream for the exact adaquel he needed to bring forth. He found it easily, then swarmed his mind around it, grabbing it and plucking it from the stream, wasting no time to allow the memory to slip back into its hiding place.

As forewarned, a pain blossomed within her mind. It wasn't intense, more like a minor annoying headache, but it grew worse with the light flooding her eyes. It didn't take long for her to start feeling the pressure points he forced upon the memory, clicking it back into place within her mind but drawing it to the present as well.

The witch felt dizzy, clammy even, like she was going to be sick or worse faint. The light was burning and the headache was near a migraine in strength now. She felt her hands clutching Mikail's shoulders on the physical plane when suddenly everything went black, her pain fading into the silence.

Seconds ticked by, or at least what Minerva thought were seconds. They could have been minutes or hours even, but then things started appearing; sounds and touches, even a soft, breeze tussled at her hair as the images started coming to her. They were slow moving at first, but then they picked up and it was no different from a simple dream.

_She clutches at her mother's side, being held at the woman's waist as they continued walking solemnly towards a grave site. The little girl doesn't know why her parents are being so quiet, but they are. There's a feeling in the air that surrounds her. It's dark and cold, yet sad and soft as well. She doesn't understand what this place is but there are stones lined up everywhere with letters and numbers engraved on them._

_Her father and mother exchange glances of unspoken deep sadness before he asks something and gently gestures towards the little girl as if wanting to take her into his arms, but the woman shakes her head and mutters a few words. The little girl doesn't know what most of them mean, but she understands that her mother wants her close and knowing that, she hugs the woman tighter. Isobel rests her head against her daughter's for a moment before kissing Minerva's cheek and taking her husband's hand._

_As her parents walk towards their destination, the little girl can't help but notice how pretty the purple wildflowers are, the birds tweeting their favorite songs and the way her mother's long, dark hair shines in the low sun. She giggles in happiness, making her father smile sadly in her direction. She sees his eyes, the sadness in them, and she stops what she's doing and becomes quiet once again. She doesn't like the feeling that surrounds this place._

_Finally they all come to a halt by a large slab of marble that was smoothly carved around the edges. There was writing on the side facing them in big letters._

_**Sinium Veridian-Ross  
>1862 - 1925<strong>_

_The wind seems to become a bit colder as her mother simply stares at the the grave. Minutes tick by, but no one says a word. Even the little girl can feel the woman's need for silence, especially as she could feel a faint tremble overtaking her body._

_Eventually, Isobel slowly sinks to her knees and places her daughter down, although she keeps her close as if she would break if Minerva began to flee. The little girl watches as her mother runs her fingers across the engravings, watches as her fingers shake considerably. A subtle, whimpering cry escapes from the woman's lips and her breathing falters, becoming hard and heavy with grief. She can hear her mother mumbling things that causes tears to well in her brilliant, sad hazel eyes, only for a wracking sob to course through her system. Her father gently wraps his arms around his wife, pulling her closer to him as she cries with utter heartbreak._

_The little girl doesn't understand what is happening; why her mother is crying, or why everyone was so sad. She wonders what the symbols on the smooth rock mean and how they could possibly cause her mother to be so utterly distraught. She hates it when her mother cries. She doesn't know what to do. However, the little girl knows what she wants. She's cold and wants to be warm and in her parent's arms, but most of all, she wants her mother to be happy._

_The little girl teeters onto her legs and begins to walk towards her parents when Isobel spots her daughter trying to reach them. The woman's sobbing haulted for a moment as she whispers something loving, then gently wraps the little girl into a tight embrace and continues her grieving once more. The little girl still doesn't know what to do, but when she feels Isobel's tears sliding onto her cheek, she mutters something- she's not even sure what it means exactly, but her mother says it to her softly every time Minerva does it._

"_Donnae cry..."_

Minerva wasn't exactly sure when her senses arose, but when they did, a cold shiver shook her body. Her legs gave out and she felt as if she was falling towards the ground when two strong arms suddenly grabbed her and helped her sit down properly.

"I was afraid of that," he muttered as she just focused on trying to breathe properly. Her lungs were demanding air as her mind flooded with flashbacks of what she had just witnessed. One image in particular was the gravestone and the name.

"S-sorry, just give me a minute..." the witch mumbled as she concentrated on relaxing her mind, stemming the heavy flow of thoughts and emotions that came with the memory. Goosebumps crawled up her arms as the feeling of how cold the little girl had been still clung to her mind. She could have sworn that she felt ghostly wet teardrops running down her face. Never in her life had she witnessed such a breakdown from her mother, in fact, she had never seen tears in Isobel's eyes before. Or so she thought, so she had believed... _Lies. My childhood has all been lies._

Minerva's fists clenched as anger boiled to the surface. She hated this. Hated being so unsure about what to actually feel about Isobel. The woman was so bloody confusing; she gave her daughter every right to hate her- agreeing to kill her, ignoring and manipulating her, abandoning Galatea and causing a great deal of hurt for both the woman and Helena... and not to mention that she- _her own mother_- had tampered with her mind at least seven times. And yet here was this memory, this clear picture of the heartless woman sobbing over the death of a man who must have been very close to her.

She narrowed her eyes. Not once had either of her parents mentioned anything regarding their family. Tradisi had been enough of a surprise and Furgus's death had been a bit awkward for the McGonagall children, not really knowing who their uncle was. The dark haired witch swallowed hard as her mother's solemn eyes flashed before her. They were so full of life, sparkling with promise, despite how devastated she had been and how so drastically different from the emotionally dead hazel orbs that currently plagued Isobel. Whoever her mother had been before, she was long gone now.

The witch let out a deep breath, much more calm and collected than before, then glanced sideways at the tawny-eyed wizard.

"Are you all right?" he asked, backing away a few inches to give her some space, as he offered her a hand up.

"I'll be fine," she took his offered hand and got off the ground. "Thank you for agreeing with me, Mikail; for bringing this memory come to the surface. I think it will help a great deal."

The wizard smiled softly. "Good. Vell, vould you like to continue mapping, or vait for another time?"

Minerva furrowed her brows. While mapping her memories as soon as possible was a priority, right now all she wanted to do was get some answers. She had to find out who this Sinium was, why her mother had never mentioned him, and find out if his death might have been a reason for Isobel to change into the witch she had become.

"Another time, I think. My mind is too distracted with questions right now. I'm going to head to the Library, hopefully find some answers."

He nodded, then summoned the scrolls to his hand and placed them in his bag. He didn't really look at her as they both got ready to leave. "Of course. Have a good evening, Minerva, and I hope you find vhat you're looking for."

"Me too," the witch muttered as she took off. She had blatantly lied about going to the Library- although it wouldn't have been a bad idea to begin with. In all actuality, Minerva had every intention of finding her mentor and badger her with questions. She began thinking of how to word them, how to back up her statements with more than what appeared to be a dream. She needed answers, if anything to simply start making sense of why Isobel would want to hide that memory in particular, other than her inclination to believe that her mother was determined to appear emotionless. Some might consider her rationale to be solely based on wanting information, and several months ago she might have thought such an accusation correct, but not now. She loved the woman. She didn't know why Galatea cared for her like she did, or even Helena for that matter, but that didn't matter anymore. What did, was that they cared for her, and that was enough.

The feeling of Isobel's tears still hadn't left her. They were like a ghostly presence, taunting her, reminding her that she herself could not cry. It hurt her more than she would ever admit. It wasn't as if she was an emotional person; in fact, she was sometimes glad that she was able to keep her emotions hidden so well. But there were times when she truly hated it, hated not being able to express the deep agony, worry and fear that she felt. She reminded herself to ask Galatea about it, despite how utterly silly and ridiculous it might sound.

_Not being able to cry._ She snorted in disgust as she shook her head, praying the woman would realise she was serious whenever she did ask the question.

The green-eyed Gryffindor extended her mental awareness to reach around the next corner when she suddenly caught a faint tremor. The very same tremor that she had felt watching her around Halloween. Cursing that there were other students around, she turned on her heels and escaped into a secret passageway and let out a deep sigh. She knew the Nightingales were about, and she considered the possibility that it might have been one of them watching her for added security, but nevertheless, she wasn't about to chance it.

She had used this conveniently hidden stairwell before as it lead down towards the Clock Tower's entrance, which was close to the Defensive Arts Department, but that was only useful if the elder witch was currently there. Again, Minerva cursed at herself for not bringing the mirror. She didn't leave it behind very often, but she had this time to prevent the precious object from being spotted by Mikail. She didn't want questions being raised as to why she had it, or worse, Mikail accidentally touching it and sending a cold summon to Galatea's e. She'd never hear the end of it if that happened.

The most viable option Minerva could see was using her Animagus as cover and simply ask Galatea's portrait where she was. With a nod of feigned self-confidence, and a last glimpse at her awareness, she transformed. It had been a while since she had used her ability, but it didn't affect her performance in the slightest. The sound of scampering paws on the stone floor filled the corridor as she steadily made her way down four floors and then nonchalantly slipped into Professor Merrythought's classroom. It wasn't too hard, for nobody really noticed a cat until they made a noise, or if they did they assumed it was a student's pet taking a leisurely stroll about the castle.

When she reached the Sir Knight Morrison's portrait, the man was sleeping- or so she thought when she transformed.

"Sir Morrison?" she questioned.

The knight jumped up from his chair, wide eyed and looking around. "Who-Wha- Where did yeh come from?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Doesn't matter. Is Professor Merrythought in?"

"Yes yes!" he pointed his sword in the direction of the door. "Go on in, m'dear, she has been worried about yeh! I will alert her immediately."

The dark haired witch grimaced and took a deep breath just before she stepped inside. She had been afraid of that, the woman really did fret more than what most believed, especially about her beloved Gryffindor pupil. No sooner than she entered the office did the woman start bombarding her with inquisition.

"There you are!" she let out a frustrated, though highly relieved, sigh as she motioned the girl over to her. She didn't appear angry, more tired and stressed if anything. "You are going to give me a stroke one of these days, I swear," she said, rubbing her temples. "I already had enough on my plate before you disappeared without a trace- and with Mr Lutrov, nonetheless!"

"Sorry," Minerva tried as she embraced the woman. "We wanted to get away from that blasted reporter and-"

"That I cannot blame you for," Galatea interrupted, saving the younger witch from explaining. "All of them crossed the line more than once today. They bombarded the Hospital Wing, disrupting the patients in the process; pulled students aside for questioning; had the audacity to start threatening them and interrupted your Transfiguration class like it was some sort of blessed party!"

The elder witch paused as a quick smile appeared on her lips. "Although from what I hear, I did not need to intervene with that one. Seems like I am rubbing off on you in more ways than one, hmm?" She tapped Minerva's nose, causing her to chuckle.

"You should have seen the class's faces after the reporters left."

Galatea's smile broadened. "I imagine they were quite shocked and halfway terrified?"

"It was rather amusing to be honest."

The elder witch shook her head as her eyes sparkled. "I have no doubt about that." She brushed a stray wisp of hair from Minerva's cheek. "Now, you must have come up here for something. Was it to simply talk, or for something else?"

The green-eyed witch frowned and looked away for a moment, unsure exactly what to ask first. After all, there were many things she needed to cover. "Galatea, who was Sinium Veridian-Ross?"

A crestfallen expression came upon the professor's face.

"Isobel never told you..." It wasn't a question, more like a deeply troubled statement. Galatea let out a sigh, then guided the Gryffindor to sit down on the settee with her. "How much do you know of him?"

"Just that he was born in 1862 and died in 1925."

"Tragically," the elder witch added somberly. She was silent for a few moments, before finally installing a sad gaze upon Minerva. "Sinium, is your grandfather- or _Seanair,_ as Isobel would have wanted you to call him. Like most husbands of Ross women, he took on his wife's last name. He was a Slytherin, regarded as generally nefarious for where he went, what he did and who he knew..."

Galatea pursed her lips, and shook her head as if ridding herself of a distasteful memory. "He was not the ideal _Athair_, but he did all right considering the _witch_ he was married to."

Minerva smiled softly, despite the rigid tone of the woman's voice. She'd spoken in Gaelic again, and this time without hesitation. Minerva wasn't sure why, but she was quite happy they had passed that barrier- whatever the woman's reasons for keeping it hidden before. Noticing the girl's reaction, Galatea's own lips curved and the tension within her body lessened.

"He loved your màthair, Minerva, always wanted the best for her. He was sort of like your own athair, but far less happy and more distant." She placed a warm hand over the girl's and Minerva wasn't sure who exactly it was meant to be more comforting for, although she suspected Galatea. There was a very sad look in her eyes as she continued. "Sinium died four months before you were born. I have no idea how your màthair kept it together, least of all how she managed to not to miscarry. She was devastated and I do not think she ever completely allowed herself to grieve for him until several years later."

Minerva nodded slowly, the memory made much more sense now- except for why it was erased, but she got the feeling that not even Galatea would know the answer to that, or even knew about it to begin with.

"How did he die?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "I mean, he was only around sixty three. It couldn't have been from natural causes, that's unheard of for a wizard."

Galatea was silent for a while. She closed her eyes, contemplating what she should- or could -say. Her jaw and fists were clenched, as if she purely despised the subject. "You are right to have suspicions about his passing. It was not natural. His throat was slit and he was stabbed to death. It was murder, dear, there is no doubt about that. However, it has never been _proven_ as for who did it."

The look in the woman's eyes- the intensely dark, spiteful emotion swirling within them -nearly caused Minerva to shudder. She swallowed. There was definitely something more to this story than met the eye.

"You have a suspicion though?"

"Not one that I should share, I think."

Minerva frowned. "Do you have a picture of him, then?"

"No," a very small smile tugged at her mentor's lips, "but Hogwarts does."

With that, she flicked her wrist, Summoning a rather large, dusty book into her hands. It had to have been decades old, and rarely touched. The elder witch banished the residue, then wandlessly flipped the pages until coming across '_Class of 1881_' and stopped.

"Come here," she motioned. Minerva obeyed willingly, sitting beside the woman as she placed an arm around her shoulders. "This is him."

She pointed towards a rather proper looking young man with high cheekbones and sleek brown hair. He looked almost nothing like Isobel, not even his eyes that were a very stern blue; in fact, Minerva probably would not have guessed he was any sort of relation had his name not been on the page. She found Galatea two rows above him, in a spitting image of what she looked like now- granted she looked far more youthful with her long black hair down, but her eyes were still that sparkling blue. A thought suddenly occurred to her, and the green-eyed witch quickly scoured the page for Tradisi. She found her, of course, within the Ravenclaws. It startled Minerva to see Tradisi took remarkable like Isobel, right down to the lifeless hazel eyes that plagued both women. Her breathing hitched as her mind began to subconsciously relay what the mad witch had asked her mother to do and she quickly tore her eyes from the page.

Sensing the girl's sudden change of mood, Galatea placed a kiss upon her forehead and pulled her in tighter. It still hurt that she hadn't been there to protect the Gryffindor from _that_ witch in particular, and it still pained her terribly that she had not taken her when she had the chance.

"How old is Màthair? How old was she when he died?" Minerva asked as the woman closed the book and put it away, looking up at her.

Galatea blinked a few times, then forced herself to look away. "Your màthair, has every right to hide her age, dear."

"What?" the witch shook her head, partially in shock as to why in the world Galatea couldn't- _wouldn't_, answer such a simple question. "What do you mean a '_right_'?"

"I can understand her reasoning towards keeping that from you."

"It's just a date..." Minerva breathed aloud, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Yes, it is." The professor let out a tired sigh. "It must sound absolutely ridiculous, but I wholeheartedly agree with her keeping it quiet- I will not talk about this."

"Fine." The Gryffindor closed her eyes for a moment to ease her frustration and looked back at her solemn mentor. "Can you tell me why she doesn't talk about him, at least?"

Galatea pursed her lips, about to say no again, but then she looked into the girl's green eyes and could not find it within her heart to deny the girl once again, so she changed her mind and rethought her words. "I honestly do not know, darling. I wish she would, might do her a world of good."

"What do you mean?"

"The woman who she once was has changed so much, Minerva."

"Because of her father passing, or..." The elder witch averted her gaze as torment filled her eyes once again and Minerva found herself gently placing a hand on her mentor's cheek and turning her face. "Galatea, please tell me. I want to _help, _I want to make this hurting _stop,_ I want to _fix _whatever is wrong and-"

"Oh child," Galatea took both of Minerva's hands, covering them with her own as she looked down on them. "I wish you could, darling. I wish none of this was real, that there were no secrets in your life and that you never had to be exposed to such _horrors!_ That I could..." She let out a shuddering breath to stop herself from continuing, then raised her head, meeting the girl at eye level. "Minerva, you do not know how much hope you give me. Every single day. Without you I would not... I do nae think I would..."

The woman stopped talking, feeling tears run down her cheeks. She was half convinced the girl was able to hear her thoughts and that scared her. She didn't want anyone else to know. Not yet.

Minerva didn't know what to say, but upon seeing Galatea's tears and the emotional turmoil she was so obviously going through, she shoved aside the agitation she was feeling and wrapped her arms around the woman, pulling her into a tight embrace once again. They stayed like that for a while, her questions about her tears would have to wait; now wasn't the time. She didn't know when it would be, but it definitely was not now.

"I love you, Minerva," the woman rasped after she had more control of her voice. "I hope you know that."

"I think I've known for a while, Galatea." She kissed the woman's cheek. "And I hope you know that I love you too."

It was the truth and she knew it. If Galatea were to go one day and never come back, Minerva didn't know what she would do. Galatea meant more to her than anything in the world, even magic, and she'd hold that love within her, no matter what came to pass.

"That means more to me than you can possibly imagine," her mentor whispered, pulling back gently to wipe her tears, then planted a kiss on the girl's forehead. Her eyes, while still a little red, shined with profound love and happiness- something Minerva hoped to see more often.

Suddenly, that phantom presence came over her awareness again and Minerva sniffed as her body became tense. She looked over her shoulder, towards the office door.

"What is it, darling?" Galatea asked.

"Someone's here," Minerva muttered as she quickly removed herself from the woman's arms and dug out her wand. The feeling became more pronounced and recognizable as footsteps were heard. "They've been following me for the past couple of days."

"Ah, yes, _Broc_ [Badger]. You need not be wary of him, he has been watching out for you."

Minerva was about to turn around to glare at the woman for not telling her this beforehand, when a wizard clad in a dark burgundy suit and white ruffled collar barged into the room. His face was near completely covered by his hood.

"_Faol _[Wolf], _Dùil_ has disap-" the man's deep voice words failed him as his lavender eyes came upon the younger witch. "Oh, Miss McGonagall. Ye're here."

Minerva raised a brow. "And you are?"

The mysterious wizard smirked then gave a small bow. "Yeh can call me _Broc_ [Badger]_._ My real name has no purpose in these here walls."

Galatea snorted as she rolled her eyes. "Oh cut the act you old smooth talker. Minerva, dear, this is Nathan- although he has not been called that in quite some time, I imagine. We _Spideagan_ [Nightingales] have become accustomed to going by our alias.

"_Broc_ means '_Badger_' doesn't it? And Galatea, yours is _Faol_ [Wolf], right? Does everyone in the _Spideagan_ [Nightingales] have Gaelic code names?"

"Yes we do. The language is sadly not used very often, so it gives us an advantage." The elder witch hauled herself off the couch. "Especially considering there is no translation spell for the language yet, although Professor Dumbledore will probably correct that when this war is over."

Minerva smirked, knowing her words were no doubt true, though it faded when she glanced at the wizard again. "You were about to say _Dùil _was missing?"

Broc shook his head. His eyes, now a little more visible from underneath his hood, lit up. "Not any more."

The Gryffindor's furrowed her brow at his response then looked towards her mentor for explanation.

"You, my dear, are _D__ùil._ It is the code name that we decided upon for you."

"I- um..." Minerva licked her lips. "I'm sorry, I can't recall what that means. I haven't spoken Gaelic in a very long time and I've never been fluent and I don't know very many-"

"It is all right, darling." Galatea placed a calming hand on her shoulder, her weary eyes gleaming with pride. "It means _'hope'_, or more accurately in this case, _'a source of hope'_. It is what you are to many of us."

Minerva blinked a few times and brought a hand up to rub her neck. She wasn't entirely sure she liked where this was going; if the Nightingales all agreed on '_dùil_' being her nickname, then it meant she was more of this 'hope' than she had previously thought. Had she been in her last year at Hogwarts, and not her sixth, it might have been easier to accept.

"Uh- right. I'll remember that."

Galatea lifted her chin catching her gaze. "Minerva, there is a meeting with the _Spideagan_ [Nightingales] on the thirteenth. I would like you to come. I think it would be good for you to finally know who is working to protect you, Hogwarts and Hogsmeade."

"And the team would enjoy that too, " Nathan added.

"Mmm, yes, that too. They _have_ been expecting you for sometime, and quite patiently, I might add."

The Gryffindor was silent for a few moments, her eyes blinked as thoughts spun around her head. The idea that there were people out there whose sole purpose was to protect her when she hadn't done anything to warrant that protection was a little unnerving, if she was honest. She was just like any innocent at this stage, especially when Untergang didn't know who she was.

"Well, the Quidditch match is the night before, so I'll have nothing going on unless Professor Dumbledore manages to find free time for his lesson- although I highly doubt that with everything else going on."

"Lesson?" Nathan questioned, stepping a little forward.

"Occlumency, she has been training for the past two months with Dumbledore," Galatea explained as a smile of pride appeared on her lips. "Apparently she has only one left."

"Only after two months?" he said quite exasperated. "It took myself nearly a year to manage an hour. How long are you able to thwart him off?"

Minerva stiffened a little, it was one thing to have her friends and peers to be in awe of her magical prowess, but adults with vast amount of experience than her was another thing. "Forty minutes."

"Equivalent to three hours..." Nathan murmured, letting out a whistle as he shook his head. "You were right, _Faol _[Wolf], _Dùil _is one amazing anomaly, one we definitely need." He extended his hand. "It's been a pleasure to finally meet you, _Dùil._ I'm afraid I must be off, now that you're found."

She shook his hand firmly, though she wasn't entirely sure how she managed it. There were so many emotions swirling inside her that she was felt highly overwhelmed by it all. She knew she was special, knew that her magic was beyond what was ever considered 'normal', but that didn't erase the fact that Minerva didn't understand _why_ she was so special, why everyone treated her like there was something great in store for her in the future. Minerva pursed her lips. She wished they would protect others and not herself, like the children in Europe caught in the crossfire of this damnable war.

"Darling, are you all right?"

The Gryffindor licked her lips and put on a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

The elder witch shot her a look, clearing not believing her. "Sweetheart, be honest with me. A lot has happened today and I would appreciate a straight answer on this."

"I just..." Minerva sighed, not knowing where to begin. Her mind was still swirling, trying to grasp the situation at hand. "What exactly is the reason that the _Spideagan_ [Nightingales] are doing here? It's not just protect me, is it?"

"No, it is not. The children here are a high priority. Your protection is shared amongst everyone else, I assure you. Truthfully, I always have one person watching over you when you're out on patrol, but other than that, you are treated just as equally amongst the protection. However, I also have several small vigilante groups in throughout Europe and Asia that are working to stop the sect of Untergang that is convinced about that they need to find this special someone."

"Wait, there's only _one_ sect interested in me?"

Galatea bobbed her head in confirmation. "And I thank the Gods for that, dear child. I do not think you would have been able to stay here if it were not. I would have taken you away myself and gone into hiding."

The elder witch frowned at that dangerous prospect as Minerva suppressed a scowl. It wasn't right to have Galatea so focused on her safety alone when there were children far more vulnerable than she was

"But why just this one sect?"

"Well, I should clarify; they are technically not part of Untergang anymore," Galatea smirked with a tinge of victory in her eyes, "not after what was done in Russia. The _Spideagan _managed to completely convince Grindelwald that what this lone sect has turned up no evidence that you exist- which it true for all intensive purposes - considering all they really have is their ridiculous myth at this point. In turn, Grindelwald and the other Untergang leaders, have decided to cut the sect off. It has not stopped them, but it has provided you a with a lot more protection."

The green-eyed witch shook her head in amazement, but also in an attempt to just absorb everything. "There weren't any casualties, were there?"

"Not on our side, and that's all that matters." The elder witch pulled the girl in close and kissed her hair, momentarily overcome with pride as she held the girl close. Even with all this new information, Minerva still managed to keep her head on straight and be concerned about other people before herself. "You mean so much to so many people, darling."

"I shouldn't though. These people are putting their lives at risk for me, when they should be out protecting others. I have two years of school to get through, and my Auror training, before I even enter this war, meanwhile thousands are being killed," she sighed. "I'm not ungrateful, but I just wish they could focus on saving others that are less capable as me."

Galatea bobbed her head in understanding, then squeezed the girl tightly once more, incredibly thankful for how well she was handling everything. "Once this Untergang threat towards you and the children is over with, darling, you can be sure that is what everyone will be doing."

The question was however, how long the threat would continue to loom, and if it got worse, what would happen? Her mother wouldn't be too happy about it, _that,_ Minerva was quite sure about.

* * *

><p><strong>Next time: (Chapter 30 - Not Supposed to Happen This Way) Minerva finally meets the Nightingales, but since when does anything <em>ever<em> go as planned? :D**

**Please review!  
>~LinK<strong>


	32. Not Supposed to Happen This Way part I

_**Use me as you will**_

_**Pull my strings just for a thrill**_

_**And I know I'll be okay**_

_**Though my skies are turning gray**_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**~ THE OLYMPICS! **I'm trying not to get distracted (it's not working very well, especially with vacation to boot) but it's the Olympics. In London. And can I just say how freaking awesome it is to talk with two wonderful women in two different countries while this is going on? I mean... :D It's so cool.  
><strong>Beta#1 [Em] - <strong>It is ULTRA cool I love it! AND it's also kinda groovy cheering for three countries lol  
><strong>Author: <strong>She said "groovy". I haven't heard that word in YEARS! (Yes, it's fun cheering for all three)  
><strong>Beta#2 [Spin]<strong> - Can I just say, it was totally 'groovy' to actually go to the Olympics too! Beach volleyball and football at Wembley - I'm so lucky! :D

**~ Did I say we were going to get to the Nightingale meeting this chapter?** Ha! *hides under a rock* While it will still _technically_ be in the "chapter" it's not this part. I'm sorry. I really am. I planned it and everything but no. I realised I needed to add DUMBLEDORE. He's been missing for a while, and I don't know about you, but I've missed the lemony oaf!. Anyway, hopefully you will enjoy regardless! Next time will be _Spideagan_ [Nightingales] meeting, I promise!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 30 - Not Supposed to Happen This Way, part I<strong>

**November 8th, 1942:**

Poppy Pomfrey didn't understand. Well, she did, but she didn't want to. Part of her really didn't want to know why Mikail was acting like he had nothing to hide, but then again, the other half really wanted to believe it. He was helping her sister with the mystery of her family and by dropping the original plan, giving in to Minerva's plea and bringing forth the repressed memory, showed that he really was committed- although whether there was an alternate motive underneath was still in question. Nevertheless, it was good to know that he wasn't fooling around on that end.

Due to what she believed was her mistrust of Mikail, she had been watching his every move, and by now, she was confident that she had memorised how he walked, wrote and even acted around his peers. Her reasoning was originally that when he did something different she could monitor his actions and maybe find a pattern- and from there, maybe find out what the wizard was hiding. However, it didn't help that every now and then she'd catch Mikail staring at her. _Her._ Not _anyone_ else, not his fanclub, or Minerva- which, to her, was something rather unnerving, yet, also profound as it gave her a brief moment of sinful butterflies.

This past week, she even found herself even looking at _him_ for a few moments without any suspicious thoughts rising, and this concerned Poppy. She kept thinking things that she shouldn't, the 'what if he really isn't the enemy' thoughts. Those never turned out good. They always led to her wondering if the underlying of her actions was because she was- _Merlin forbid_ -attracted to him. She hated the notion that she could possibly be falling for a man that she didn't trust, and consequently, hated Mikail more. It was why she was spending as much time as she could in the Hospital Wing, to prevent her chaotic feelings from turning into something she would later regret.

Yet, it didn't prevent her attitude from souring, nor those secretive thoughts from seeping into her mind, especially when Pomona received another flower. They were still being sent more often than not and now included a lovely little note attached. Poppy wanted to be happy for the Hufflepuff and marvel at the secret admirer's handiwork along with the other girls, but she found herself feeling cold and withdrawn instead. She knew, much to her chagrin, that she was jealous, and more than once, she wished she could be her old self again, but it seemed that her emotions had other plans.

And so she found herself hiding in the wards spelling the curtains into a slightly more cheerful colour, listening to her Mentor informing her of today's patients and their treatments, when Minerva burst into the Hospital Wing, dragging a whimpering young Slytherin with her.

"Madam Nurix?"

The matron was already facing the ruckus.

"Oh my," she breathed, motioning the dark haired Gryffindor to the nearest bed. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I found her like this near the Gryffindor Tower, curled up in a corner. She implicated that a few Gryffindors-" the girl flinched "-did it, but there was no one around. I think her name is Eileen Prince."

"Thank you, Miss McGonagall."

Helena gave a nod of thanks, glanced at her apprentice, then quickly summoned a calming draught and administered it to Miss Prince. Meanwhile, Poppy flicked her wand, casting a diagnostic spell. By now they had a routine down, each instinctively knowing what to do and when to do it.

The apprentice scanned through the diagnostics carefully, blocking out her sister's thoughts and keeping herself calm. However, when the word _'Peripheral neuropathy' _appeared, Poppy almost dropped her wand, she had only seen it in her books and _never_ expected to see it in real life.

"S-She's been attacked by the C-Cruciatus curse!"

"_What?" _Helena's eyes suddenly snapped from Miss Prince and towards her apprentice with an expression that clearly showed her surprise.

Before either of them could continue, Minerva quickly cast a silencing charm. "Poppy, are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure! That Unforgivable attacks the nervous system and it says _'peripheral neuropathy'_. That's the defining symptom of the wretched curse."

The Head Matron cast her own diagnostic and read it over as her patient began to fall asleep. It wasn't that she doubted the initial diagnostic made by her apprentice, but rather she needed confirmation of her own to keep the shock from overwhelming her.

"So it does," Helena breathed, her grey eyes still scanning the words being projected in the air, before turning to the two girls before her. "Considering the Headmaster and Deputy are still away, we will need to keep this quiet. I trust neither of you will say _anything_ of this incident as I don't think I need to inform you of how serious a crime this is."

"No, Ma'am." Both witches shook their heads.

"Good," she nodded curtly. "Then I will return shortly. Professor Merrythought needs to be informed of this... Professor Slughorn too," she added absently as she walked off, leaving the two sisters alone.

There were too many thoughts swirling around Poppy's head to start making sense of things. Someone with skills in the Dark Arts was amongst them in the castle. Fear once again rose in her mind about Mikail. "You don't think Lutrov would have..."

Minerva shook her head. "No, I don't. I know we should be suspicious Poppy, but from what we've seen and witnessed of him, he doesn't seem like the type who would torture young girls."

"I know, I just..." The apprentice frowned as multiple emotions seemed to hit her all at once. She _wanted_ to believe that he wouldn't cause any harm, _wanted_ him to be a normal student that had simply transferred from Russia- but her gut told her he wasn't. "Why is it that ever since he came here, everything has gone to hell? That connection doesn't help!"

The green-eyed witch sighed as she gave her sister a hug. "I don't know, Poppy. I agree, it is a big coincidence, but I've got a feeling that this isn't Mikail's doing."

Poppy frowned. "Why do you think that?"

"Oh Poppy-"

"I'm serious, Min! Why? I need to know your reasoning behind this." She stared at the green-eyed witch in a pleading fashion. She had to know that her sister wasn't just saying these things based upon Mikail's actions alone. They really didn't _know_ him like she did.

Minerva's eyes drifted towards the girl sleeping on the bed. "I think it was Miss Prince who ran into me and Galatea when we were coming back to Hogwarts after Fang's attack." She looked back at Poppy with rising anger in her heart. "I know _Riddle_ is using the Dark Arts and I would bet you anything that _he_ is the mongrel who did this. He's probably using her as target practice for the Cruciatus_ and _the Imperius curse. As for it not being Mikail, we both know he's been working against _Riddle._"

The apprentice bit her lip. Her sister's logic made sense, as it always did, and it comforted her a little just by knowing the dark haired witch wasn't basing her assumptions on mere feelings alone. "I guess you're right."

Minerva pursed her lips as she tilted her head slightly. "Poppy, is something else bothering you?"

With a quick smile, the apprentice shook her head. "No, I'm fine, Min, really."

"You don't seem like you are." The dark haired witch put her hands on her lips. "You were getting better before the attack. Now all you do is spend your time here and you seem very distant..."

Poppy looked down at her feet. Rolanda had asked her the same question yesterday when they were alone in the dormitory. "I've just got a lot on my mind right now and Lutrov seems to only make things worse."

Her sister raised a brow in confusion, then- to Poppy's relief -she dropped the stern façade, replacing it with a gentle expression. "He hasn't been doing anything wrong, I promise."

"No, no," she covered one of Minerva's hands with her own. "I trust you, and I trust that if he ever _does_ cross the line, you will tell me. I'm just confused and I don't want to do something idiotic because of that. That's why I'm here all time."

The dark haired witch smiled sadly. "I wish you wouldn't let him get to you so much."

"I can't help it, he's with my sister all time and it worries me." The apprentice took a step back from Minerva and crossed her arms. She wanted to ask her sister something else, something that would clear her mind, but she simply couldn't bring herself to do it. The question, after her own ponderings about possibly being attracted to the man, would be highly hypocritical.

"You better go, back to whatever you were doing before this fiasco, and I need to go research how to treat an Unforgivable so I can help Helena later."

Poppy turned around and started walking towards the Helena's office to look into her advance medical books, however, she couldn't help but notice the hurt expression on Minerva's face. It caused a guilty pang inside her heart knowing that this was what she had to do in order to keep the peace and realised that for the first time that she really needed to talk to someone- someone who would be objective and maybe help her. She thought about confiding in Helena, but quickly discounted the option. She couldn't fathom that conversation going well, mainly because she had no idea what to say to her mentor.

She had feelings for a man that could possibly be trying kill her green-eyed sister, a man that she was sure that she hated, and for that, Poppy hated herself.

* * *

><p>Helena rubbed her temples.<p>

Even after reporting the news to Galatea and Horace, and then to Nathan once more, she was still having a hard time believing it herself. Never in her forty three years working at Hogwarts, had she _ever_ admitted a victim of an Unforgivable curse. It was almost unthinkable.

The Nightingales had their hands full now, scrambling to figure out if a member of the Untergang could have got inside, or if it was just a student meddling with things that they shouldn't. Helena prayed it was the latter, if the Untergang really had infiltrated the castle, then Minerva needed to leave- and therefore Galatea too. There was no way that the elder witch would stay here while her precious girl fled into hiding, and Helena despised the idea of the ex-Auror having no one else to look after her. Actually, it was more accurate to say that she dreaded it. The woman was a magnet for death and one of these days it was going to catch up with her; it was the very day that represented the matron's boggart.

With a sigh, Helena left her office and entered the Hospital Wing. She took a quick moment to scan the room's occupants. They still had the two Petrified boys, though they were in their own confinement; there were two new patients being overseen by Matron Campbell, one suffering from a stinging hex while the other was trying not to panic about having a tail; and, then of course, there was Miss Prince who had seemingly awakened a while ago. Poppy was tending to her, trying to keep her calm, but it seemed that the Slytherin girl was only making things worse for the already agitated apprentice. The Gryffindor was trying very hard not to let her frustration get the better of her, but when Miss Prince refused once again to say who attacked her, Poppy tensed up, balled her fists and stormed off towards the medical cabinet.

Her mentor frowned. Such behavior was highly unusual for the apprentice, however, more and more these days Poppy was changing before Helena's eyes. While she was grateful for the Gryffindor's extra help, the girl was still young and should be spending more of her free time with her friends, having fun and living their lives, not worrying about who was trying to kill her sister!

The matron closed her eyes and sighed, knowing she'd put off this conversation for too long. It was time to get to the bottom of this.

"Poppy," she called, watching the young witch stop in her tracks. "Come here, please."

"I was about to-"

"Miss Prince's medication can be taken care of later. You need a break, now come." She beckoned again. The younger witch sighed, but gave into her mentor's ushering. The woman faintly smiled and placed her hand on the back of Poppy's shoulders to guide her into the Head Matron's personal rooms.

"Sit, I'll make you some tea."

"Helena, I appreciate the hospitality, but I don't need-"

The woman spun around, staring her apprentice down. "No arguments. You're stressed, it's affecting your work and the tea will help calm your nerves."

Poppy pursed her lips. "I'm not-"

"Yes, dear, yes you are." Helena's voice was surprisingly soft and calm. "You wouldn't be acting like this if you weren't. You would be talking to your friends and sisters- which I _know_ you're not doing. Sit, my dear. Sit and relax. I'll be back in a moment."

The apprentice lowered her gaze as her mentor left the room, but eventually obeyed the woman's commands- except for the 'relax' part, but that couldn't be helped. What could she say to the woman that could possibly convince her? Her mentor always knew when she wasn't telling the whole truth, and confiding in her about her questionable attraction to Mikail was ludicrous. The idea alone made her sick. She just wanted it to disappear and never surface again. There were enough problems around at the moment, and this one could very easily make everything much worse- which was the _last_ thing Poppy wanted to do. Yet, she was growing weary of keeping it all in, and she doubted that Helena was going to let her go without knowing the main cause of her recent behaviour.

When the woman returned it was with a steaming cup of freshly brewed tea.

"Now, why don't we start with what's bothering you?"

Poppy sighed and looked away, biting her tongue. She could feel her emotions swelling inside her, threatening to burst free.

"Everything," she whispered, her lip trembling. "The war; Untergang; Minerva, her bloody Occlumency lessons, being assaulted by Riddle, being trained to go to war when we're all so young; the Chamber's victims..." The apprentice could feel tears pooling in her eyes- she had too much on her mind one to handle alone.

"Oh, my dear," Helena summoned a few tissues from the side of the room into her palm and offered them to the somber girl. "Here."

Poppy took them and dabbed at her eyes with a shuddering sigh. "And then there's Lutrov... I don't know what to make of him, Helena, I really don't!"

"If it helps, Professor Merrythought and myself don't either."

"No, I mean... it's not like that," she bit her lip. "Well, it is, sort of, but- I just don't know. I keep wondering if it's just his manipulation, or if it's real. I just want it to stop, but it won't and-"

The matron suddenly cupped the girl's face in an effort to silence and calm her. It pained her to see the girl in such a state. "Poppy, dear, you're not making any sense. Take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong. What's _really_ troubling you?"

The apprentice did as she was told, breathing in as she closed her eyes and blocking the thoughts within. She let her voice take over, for once speaking without thinking. "I think I may have feelings for Lutrov."

She waited with her eyes still closed. Waited for the laughter; comments about her being a silly hormonal school girl; a tirade about how foolish she was, that she was making this all up in her head. But none of that happened.

"I see," was all the matron said.

"I don't understand it," Poppy murmured, mainly to keep the silence from becoming awkward. She hated moments like that. "It's not how it's supposed to be, you're not supposed to develop an attraction for a person you hate!"

Helena smiled softly as she lifted the girl's chin. "It may not be a usual way for such feelings to occur, but trust me, it happens."

Poppy shook her head and stood up, taking several steps away as her emotions began to boil over. "Don't you understand? I can't let him get close, I can't slip up, I can't put Minerva in any more danger than she is already!"

"I understand perfectly dear, and it hurts me to see how much this pains you. I've seen how you react towards Mr Hawk's letters, Miss Sprout's flowers, and Miss Louise's courtship."

The apprentice crossed her arms, hugging her middle. "I want to be happy for them, I really do and I'm ashamed that I can't-"

"Now you stop right there," Helena said sternly, but not without compassion, as she walked over to the girl's side and clasped her shoulders. "It is completely _normal_ and okay for you to feel a bit lonesome and even a little jealous. I myself felt the same way at your age and the frustration of not being with someone the way you wish. Granted this case is a little more extreme, but rest assured, I understand why you're feeling so overwhelmed."

Poppy looked up at the woman. She didn't feel any better about the situation, but getting it out in the open certainly helped. "What do you think I should do? I mean, despite it all, I still have this gut feeling that something isn't right, that he's hiding something. Maybe I'm imagining it though so, subconsciously trying to keep myself away from him?" She shook her head, biting her lip for a moment to keep it from trembling. "I don't _want_ him to be the enemy, but the idea of letting my guard down if he really _is_ out to get Min scares me, Helena! I'll never forgive myself for putting my feelings first at the sake of my sister but I'm becoming this cold, distant and unhappy person and it's not who I want to be."

Her mentor frowned. She wished she could simply tell the girl to make her move, to go after the boy and be happy for once, but Poppy was right. They still didn't know if he had a connection with the Untergang and this situation with Miss Prince didn't improve things. It wasn't like the her apprentice could just simply suppress these feelings either, no matter how hard she worked at denying them.

"To be honest, my dear, I'm not sure. But you need to stop hanging around here, it isn't doing you any good. You are bottling up your emotions when instead you need to be having fun, not dwelling in here with an old witch like me." The woman brushed a lock of rust colored hair out of the girl's face with a reassuring smile. "You're a strong witch, Poppy, I know you can keep your feelings from interfering with your actions until sufficient evidence is found that Mr Lutrov is not part of the Untergang- you of all people know what is at stake here."

The apprentice bobbed her head, although she looked away. She wasn't expecting a solution, in fact, she was sure there wasn't one, despite the help she'd already been given. She felt her mentor's fingers slip under her chin and lift the girl's gaze back towards her.

"If you _ever_ need to talk, or just get away for a little while, my door is always open." Helena smiled. "Now, go on and get out of here. Find your friends and do something fun. You're only young once."

She gave her a wink, forcing a relieved grin and a faint laugh to escape Poppy's lips as they embraced for a moment before the girl was sent off. With her mentor's confidence instilled in her, she ran out ready to face the day, and Mikail too if needed.

**November 12th, 1942:**

Professor Dumbledore had been gone for almost two weeks. The Headmaster had returned a few days ago, but there was no sign of his Deputy anywhere. Minerva knew that he was a busy man, and during a times of crisis such as this, it was to be expected that he was needed elsewhere, but her gut was telling her that something was wrong and it had been that way for the past two days. She tried to block out the feeling by being in the Transfiguration room as much as she could, giving help to the younger students and even advising those in Animagus Studies, but Merlin, today it didn't seem to help at all.

The second year's study group came in, and she encouraged them to take their seats. They worked on changing their water goblets back into birds and one pupil even managed to remove the metallic sheen from it's feathers when Minerva's awareness picked up an fiery flare that turned into a familiar human presence at the door. Her eyes drifted over towards the auburn haired wizard walking into the room and what she saw made her speechless. It was Professor Dumbledore with a cloak covering his right arm which seemed to be bent towards his stomach. Her immediate thought was that he was injured and her heart raced. She almost dashed to his side to offer assistance but before she could move a step, he motioned for her to continue with his left hand and smiled.

"Please, don't stop on my account. You're doing a marvelous job, Miss McGonagall."

Minerva could barely talk, much less continue to help others with their Transfiguration work. She swallowed hard with a nod and had the students try their spells again, but even as they practiced, she couldn't keep herself from stealing glances at her professor as he tiredly walked into his office and closed the door behind him. Her thoughts were racing about what could have possibly injured the man and why he wasn't with Madam Nurix.

A few minutes passed before the Prefect could take no more. She dismissed the students in a somewhat casual manner, giving praise to those who earned it- and when they all left she promptly rushed into the room the wizard had disappeared into. She spotted him leaning against his desk, the outside of his cloak exposed as it lay draped carelessly over the chair- bloodied.

"Don't be alarmed, my dear," Professor Dumbledore said calmly as he dribbled Essence of Dittany across his injured arm, which instantly began to heal the laceration that ran from his wrist to elbow.

"_Alarmed?_" the dark haired witch repeated in exasperation as she quickly rushed over to his side. She brandished her wand, Syphoning the blood away. "Do you need anything? Should I get Madam Nurix?"

"No, no. I'll be all right," he said as he wandlessly vanished the potion bottle_._

Minerva frowned as she took another glance at her professor's injury. "You're not _'all right'_. Your arm is still swollen, it looks as though you may have fractured it."

She looked back at him, only to see the professor to shrug. "It's not too bad."

"It's bad enough that Madam Nurix should look at it, Sir." Minerva eyed him with a glare before remembering who she was talking to and shook her head, lowering her gaze as she did. "You really should get it looked at."

"Hmph, I hate hospitals," he grumbled. "Besides, I'm lucky. Phoenixes, while known for their tears, are also blessed with extraordinarily fast healing. I just need some rest and I'll be back to normal in no time, you'll see."

The green-eyed witch sighed, still not entirely reassured by his words. "There really isn't anything I can say to change your mind, is there, Professor?"

"Probably not, unless you have something over me which I'm not aware of?" He gave her a wink.

The witch gawked with mock hurt. "Professor Dumbledore you wound me with such words! Anyone would think I'm a slimy green snake by the way you talk!"

The wizard chuckled. "On the contrary, my dear, I believe they would view you as quite the lioness- which reminds me," his humorous expression changed with a down turned frown. "You're attending the _Spideagan_ [Nightingales] meeting tomorrow, aren't you?"

Minerva's eyes drifted from her professor's blue gaze as she bobbed her head. It wasn't exactly something she was excited about.

"And what are your thoughts? I assume Professor Merrythought told you why she wishes you to attend."

"She did," the witch licked her lips, "and I'm not sure how one could ever possibly prepare for something like that. The group leaders will be there to see me, _me_ as this sort of _'hope'_ for a war that I'm not even close to entering, or being ready for. I don't know what they're expecting, but I highly doubt it's a witch who's only in her sixth year at Hogwarts."

Professor Dumbledore placed his uninjured hand on her shoulder, his eyes twinkling with pride. "They are aware of your age and your magical prowess. You have impressed them so much already, although Professor Merrythought's details of your incredible competence certainly helped."

"If they know I can handle myself, then why are they protecting me instead of the other mass innocents that this war is destroying?"

To her surprise, Professor Dumbledore flashed her a small smile. "Would you like to know a secret?"

She tilted her head to the side. Whatever she was expecting him to say, it wasn't that. "The _Spideagan_ [Nightingales] aren't just a vigilante group comprised of ex-Aurors and brilliant magicians. However, they all have one thing in common; they're after vengeance against the Untergang. Most have been affected one-way or another by the terrorist faction. It's what unites them and is why they're placing their hope in you. The Untergang has been in operation, causing fear in the world for far too long and it's been long past due for someone to destroy them."

Minerva pursed her lips. "Have _you_ been affected, Sir?"

The professor shook his head. "No, but I have heard horrible stories and they're quite enough for me to want them gone from this world for good, not to mention that they're making this war far worse by aiding Grindelwald." He smiled sadly. "I know that doesn't help your personal situation, but hopefully it gives you some insight as to why they put you at such high regard."

It did help. In all actuality, any information about the Nightingales helped her a great deal. She had a feeling there wasn't much she could do except learn to embrace the fact that so many were expecting her to change things on a near global scale and then perhaps lead them out of the darkness. The most she could do was try to understand those around her, those who were protecting her and saw her as this source of 'hope', and maybe, eventually, figure out how to live up to those expectations imposed upon her.

Just before she left to get herself to relax before a game, she asked one last question.

"Professor, are you really all right?"

"Oh yes, fine," But the light in his eyes wasn't there and she frowned. "It's truly nothing to worry about, my dear."

But Minerva did worry. She worried that the Untergang was hunting him to get to her; that maybe Grindelwald had it out for Dumbledore and wanted him assassinated before he had a chance to affect things; and last of all, worried that the pressure put upon him with the war and the chamber's monster was beginning to prove too much for him.

* * *

><p>The match was a triumph, despite the fact that Galatea and Helena hadn't showed up. Minerva found that a little odd, but with everything else going on- even suspecting them to be involved with whatever Professor Dumbledore had found himself against. However, she kept her mind open to the possibility that they were simply busy.<p>

She did her best to shake her thoughts during the match game and not let them affect her performance, although it didn't entirely matter. Unlike last year, the Slytherin team seemed to be lacking willpower, team spirit and practice. There was no competition, not even from the very best players of last year who previously posed a threat. Lestrange, Avery, Chisholm and Malfoy were especially off their game. It proved meaningful for a while, the Gryffindor team knocking the Quaffle about with glee, blissfully enjoying the fact that they were crushing their arch nemesis by the largest landslide in decades. Not even Minerva could keep from smiling a little, but she refused to allow her focus to wander from finding the golden devil. She found it, of course, and she caught it with the least competition she'd ever had- then again, the opposing Seeker was nowhere to be seen.

The moment her fingers touched the Snitch, a thunderous cheer from all but the Slytherin end rang loud and clear. Anyone would have sworn they were applauding for not just Gryffindor's win, but for the war to stop and the chamber's monster to be put to rest.

The whole team was congratulated back in the common room like they were heroes. A cake had even been sent, which Minerva had a sneaky suspicion it was Professor Dumbledore's doing as it had a distinct lemony taste and had arrived with a seemingly bottomless pot of sherbet lemons. Just before she retired for the night, she looked around, finding her friends and sisters enjoying themselves, even Poppy seemed to be back to her old self now.

With a smile, she left for her dormitory where Mico lovingly greeted her while she put up a silencing charm to keep out the noise from below, and then got ready for bed. Just as she was pulling the covers back, she Summoned the mirror into her grasp and sent a pulse through it. She wasn't thinking about what tomorrow would bring, about the enormous burden of hope placed upon her, or what in Merlin's name she was going to do about it. All she cared about was just talking to the elder witch.

Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long before her reflection was replaced with its twin's view, Galatea coming into focus with a wide smile.

"Hello there, dear. I must say, I am a little surprised you are not still rejoicing at your victory!"

Minerva smiled. "At the victory itself or the score?"

"The score, definitely the score," another feminine voice said from the other end. "I haven't seen those snakes get smashed like that since 1912!" The mirror's view suddenly adjusted, revealing Madam Nurix's warm grey eyes. "Good evening, Minerva."

The green-eyed witch a little surprised that the matron was there, but that was quickly forgotten with how outwardly kind the woman was being. "Good evening, Helena."

"Sorry we missed the match, dear," Galatea said, moving the mirror back towards her as Helena moved out of view. "We would have been there if it were not for- Ouch, Helena, dear, watch it!" the professor suddenly barked, snapping her head down at right shoulder.

"Don't be complaining to me about getting hurt," the matron said sternly. "You're the one can't stay out of these scuffles!"

"Scuffles?" Minerva asked as Galatea floated the mirror onto a desk showing both women this time, and consequently the small cut on the professor's arm- well, small compared to the gash she took earlier in September.

"Mmm, yes," Helena muttered as she pocketed her wand then began to apply a balm to the wound. "The Untergang tried to raid the Ministry today, although thankfully they weren't expecting the _Spideagan_ [Nightingales] to be there."

The elder witch pursed her lips in an odd, halfway disappointed frown. "Hmph, they should have."

Minerva watched as the matron's eyes widened for a moment in horror, then narrowed in disapproval as she hissed, "Galatea!"

"Oh hush, dear. All I am saying is that I find it highly unusual that they were surprised- not that I am complaining. It was good to kick their ruddy-" Helena cleared her throat, earning a roll of the eyes from the professor, which caused Minerva to laugh. "At any rate, nothing bad happened, no casualties."

"Was Professor Dumbledore involved? Is that how he got injured?" she blurted her suspicion, her heart rate heightened at the idea of the Untergang raiding the Ministry. She didn't need confirmation to know what the sect group was after: information.

"Dumbledore?" Galatea turned her head towards the matron again. "I thought I asked you to check on him?"

"Oh, you know what that wizard is like!" Helena began wrapping her colleagues' wound as she chided away. "The moment he senses me coming, he turns into his Animagus and _poof__!_ Honestly, he's worse than you are, and that's saying something." She sighed, clipping the bandage before turning back towards the mirror with a much calmer expression than Minerva expected. "I hope it wasn't anything serious."

The green-eyed witch chewed her lip for a moment, pondering what she should say- if she should go against what her professor wanted, or give in to what was best for him. In the end, it probably wouldn't matter, Helena would find out anyway.

"His right forearm was swollen as though it may have been fractured and he had an open wound, but he fixed that with Essence of Dittany."

"Oi, men!" The matron threw her hands in the air with obvious aggravation, then immediately began Summoning balms and bandages into her handbag. "I'll have to have a word with him."

"Helena, he is probably passed out with exhaustion, sleeping it off."

"Well then I'll wake him up! I have not the time or the patience to put up with wizards and their egotistical, selfish mindsets!" The matron disappeared from view, most likely heading for the door.

"You never have," Galatea called after her with what Minerva considered a rather teasing smile.

"Yeah, well, that's a different story and you know it!" Helena retorted, her voice distant and echoing, indicating that she was already on her way, although likely still close enough to hear both witches' chuckles.

"Poor Albus, he's going to get a real earful." The elder witch shook her head, then pulled the mirror closer to her from the stand. "How are you, darling? Ready for tomorrow?"

Minerva shifted, swallowing her insecurity and keeping her calm façade in place. "If I told you I was, would you be convinced?"

"No, I probably would not believe you."

The green-eyed witch sighed. "I'll be as ready as I can be then."

Galatea's pale blue eyes sparkled as a smile quirked her lips. "That is all anyone can ask for, myself included."

"Except they're expecting to see someone who's going to end this war."

"No they are not," the elder witch spoke sternly, "and for that matter, neither am I. This war is far too big for one person to end. It is going to take a massive effort from everyone, several special people with incredible talent and sacrifice, for it all to stop."

"Then what _are_ they looking for? What do they expect from me?" Minerva tried to keep her voice quiet, despite her frustration at the overwhelming situation.

"They expect nothing but to see the young, brilliant woman that you are."

"And if I don't meet expectations?"

Galatea surprised the Gryffindor with a chuckle. "That could never happen."

* * *

><p><strong>Next time WILL be meeting! Sorry about the wait and please review!<strong>

**~LinK  
><strong>


	33. Not Supposed to Happen This Way part II

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

~By Your Side - Tenth Avenue North

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**~If you're wondering how to pronounce the Gaelic words, I still have no idea.** Also, I openly admit that I am_ not_ a Scottish Gaelic expert. If by some miracle I do have an expert reading this then **please** correct me if I am wrong! I won't bite, I swear.

**~After much discussion about how to treat the Nightingales' alias names** Em and I have decided that, while they are Gaelic words, they're also names. I'll translated them once but from then on they'll be known as their alias unless their true name is known like with Nathan or Galatea.

**~If you would like to know my sources for the Gaelic translations send me a PM :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 30 - Not Supposed to Happen This Way, part II <strong>

**November 13th, 1942:**

It was finally the day of the meeting, and although Minerva wasn't exactly nervous about it, she wasn't particularly looking forward to it. She had so many feelings conflicting within her, but she knew she had to push them aside and embrace what was to come. These people expected her to be the solution to this war or, as Galatea had sternly informed her, at least aid in it. Even so, they were sacrificing their lives for her and the least she could do was be the adult they all expected her to be. It was one thing she was absolutely sure she couldn't fail at, or at least, she hoped she wouldn't.

"Are you ready, _Dùil_?"

The witch cast a sideways glance at her mentor while trying to effectively burying her nerves. "Do you really have to call me that?"

"Yes, _Dùil_, and I might as well inform you that only code names are used with the _Spideagan_ [Nightingales]. You must call me _Faol._"

Minerva nodded, noting that the professor was obviously preparing her for the fierce Nightingale Captain.

"Of course." She licked her lips. "What will we be doing?"

Galatea's blue eyes checked the clock, they had three minutes until the Floo Network on their end opened. She had specifically ordered her fireplace to be sealed until then.

"Well to start with, you shall be introduced to the team leaders and a few other individuals, after that, we shall see."

The younger witch noted that her mentor was a bit on edge, her jaw was set and her eyes were narrowed.

"Expecting trouble?"

A smirk curved the elder witch's lips. "I always expect trouble, darling."

The Gryffindor wasn't sure if that was directed towards her attending the meeting, or simply due to Galatea's Auror training- but she settled on it a bit of both and grimaced slightly.

"Anyone I should be wary about?" she asked as they each grabbed a handful of Floo powder. Almost as if she had spoken a Taboo curse, an unusual feeling began to crawl into the back of her mind. It made her nervous and on edge, almost as if she was being hunted- but she waved it aside as nerves in an effort to keep herself calm.

"Hmm, the only people I would be wary of are _Dealg_ [Thorn], and possibly _Sgiath_ [Shield]. Other than that I do not envision us having any problems."

Minerva bobbed her head, very glad that she had taken it upon herself to brush up on her Gaelic this week. She was quite determined to manage the translations and speak the words correctly during the meeting, lest she look like a fool. _That _was one thing Minerva McGonagall was bound to not appear as during her first impression with a such a prestigious group. The entire situation felt dreadfully awkward to her; she was just a seventeen year old girl in her sixth year at Hogwarts and yet, they thought she was the source of 'hope' in fighting this war- a war which over thirty countries were involved in by now.

There was a sudden burst of green flame as the network to the Nightingales' Headquarters was connected.

"Ah, that is our cue. Just say _'Headquarters, Faol's office'._"

Minerva raised a questioning brow as she grabbed a handful of powder. "You don't have a room solely for Floo transportation?"

"We do, however tonight, as a precaution, we are using my office. Can never be too careful."

_Of course... _Minerva thought as she took a deep breath as she stepped into the fireplace, calming any last stray nerves.

"Oh," Galatea spoke again and the Gryffindor had to bend to see her mentor's face, "I forgot to mention, _Òran_ is Helena's alias."

She had to wrack her brain for a moment as to what '_òran'_ meant. For a moment, she wondered if she had forgotten or had yet to learn it, until it finally clicked- although when it did, the stubbornly odd feeling came back again, almost in meaning of association. It had been stronger this time, but not enough to overcome her. She took a deep breath, trying to vanish the sensation as she proceeded the conversation.

"Meaning _'Song'_?"

The elder witch let a bare hint of a smile curl on her lips. "Very good, I thought you might have studied. Now, off you get- and remember, I am very proud of you, no matter what happens."

Minerva knew her eyes sparkled at her mentor's words. It helped to hear that right now, despite already knowing it in her heart. She felt like she might just be able to portray the witch the Nightingales were expecting her to be.

The moment she was transported and stepped out of the fireplace- vanishing the soot and adjusting her hat as she did -the Gryffindor knew she was exactly where she was supposed to be. The room was set up in that same Edinburgh feel, yet it had something else to it. At first she thought it was just her imagination, but then the witch realised that she really was smelling the sea. Yet when she looked out the window, there was very clearly no water in sight. She couldn't decide if the smell was annoying because of the oddity, or soothing. If anything, it proved to be a wonderful distraction and tension breaker.

"Do you like it?" Galatea asked after hastily exiting the fireplace as if it were to explode any minute and muttering under her breath about detesting the Floo.

"Yes, or at least I think. I can't figure out where it's coming from though."

The elder witch chuckled. "It is a spell I came up with, makes things feel more like 'home' on stressful nights here."

Minerva turned around to face her mentor, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. Sometimes she wished she could just spend days asking the professor questions, even though she would probably only every just scratch the surface of who the woman was personally.

"And where is _'home'_ for you?"

"Port of Ness on the Isle of Lewis, or in the native tongue, _'Port Nis, Leòdhas'._" She gave a small smile, then returned to her stern façade. "Come, _Dùil, _there will be time for talk later. They are waiting for us."

Despite her reluctance, the green-eyed witch followed Galatea without another word out of the office, down a flight of marble stairs- each step engraved with Gaelic words -and towards a rather peculiar door with the symbol of a nightingale soaring underbelly up towards the words _'Còir aig a' cheann thall'_, meaning; _'Justice in the end'_, or at least that's what she thought it meant.

With very little ceremony the Nightingale Captain opened the doors, revealing a rather large room where two large tables lay- although despite their size, they barely made up the length of the room. One was round and covered with papers and maps, while the other was long and relatively bare. The walls were decorated with Victorian style windows and along the wall were intricately designed black torches that let lit the otherwise dark room beautifully. There were also small water features in the corners of the room, the soft sounds of pure liquid was calming to her ears, despite the nervous tension filling the room as she walked in.

There were nine witches and wizards alike in the room, most of them wearing a dark cloak and all of which stood the second the door opened. Minerva scanned their faces, and was pleased to see at least two faces she recognized. Nathan, being the obvious, but also Filius Flitwick, the tiny wizard famed for his achievement as Dueling Champion in 1936. However, she was a little disappointed to see that Helena was not present. The way Galatea had mentioned her made Minerva believing the matron would be present.

"Good afternoon, Captain." The lavender-eyed wizard took a few steps from where the members were gathered, his hood still up and hiding most of his face as he turned his attention upon Minerva, bowing slightly, "and to yeh, _Dùil._"

"Welcome to our Headquarters," a red-haired woman in a green and white robe approach her. She had a distinctive Celtic knot tattooed on her neck and her dark green eyes sparkled in either amazement or intrigue, maybe both, as she extended her hand with a smile. "We've all been very anxious to meet you, dear."

Despite the ever present strange feeling that continued to lurk in the back of her mind, the younger witch firmly shook the woman's hand. "Yes, so I've heard."

"_Dùil,_ meet _Eidheann_ [Ivy], she is our poison specialist and another old friend of mine," Galatea said with a smile towards both witches, then turned her attention towards _Eidheann_. "Where is _Òran_? She said she would be here."

"Not sure," a very proper wizard with piercing eyes spoke up. His gaze was sternly focused upon the young witch as if to make her uncomfortable as he spoke. "I saw her a few minutes ago, but she left for the Fire Room."

The Captain frowned, quite possibly at the man's attitude towards her pupil along with the news of Helena's whereabouts.

"Must have had a patient call in. Well, we will have to start without her." The elder witch turned her attention towards the whole group as she pointed at each member and introduced them, starting at the man glaring at Minerva first.

"This is _Dealg,_ he's the head of the group in North Asia."

The man nodded, rather stiffly, his glare never wavering as if he was trying to break her calm façade. Although if anything, it strengthened her resolve to remain steady- despite the feeling in her gut. Something told her that he was up to something, but she held her tongue, refusing to acknowledge her thoughts as she turned back to the group.

Galatea continued on, introducing the leaders first. The Middle East operations were overseen by _Sgiath _[Shield], an ivory skinned wizard who also seemed to be not entirely less than impressed about with Minerva; while twins, _Paindeal_ [Panther] and _Abhainn _[River], took over the risky European operations, seemed much kinder than the others. The elder witch then introduced Nathan once more, informing her that he was in charge of the protection of the children in Hogsmeade.

_Saighead_ [Arrow] was their weapons expert and the delicate process of communications belonged to _Ath-sgal_ [Echo], a witch with frost white hair and a rugged scar on her cheek; and then finally, the infamous Filius Flitwick, who had the peculiar alias of _Losgann_ [Frog] and was identified as the protection and seclusion specialist.

The wizard let out a squeak after Galatea introduced him, clearly more excited to be meeting the younger witch than the others seemed to be.

"You're the witch who beat my hat stall by two minutes!" he said with broad grin. "That dusty old hat couldn't decide between Ravenclaw or Gryffindor to save his flap! I can only imagine the trouble he had with you!"

The rest of the group, aside from _Dealg_, chuckled softly. Even Minerva could not help but laugh with them, despite the feeling growing stronger and centering within her chest. It was beginning to set her on edge and she was quite certain that it didn't have anything to do with the meeting.

"I think half of the first years were convinced I was a squib before the Hat finally made a decision." She said, trying to distract herself from the troubling thoughts.

"And by all my accounts, it definitely made the right one. You're a Gryffindor by any standard." Nathan gave her a wink. It might have made her feel better if it weren't for the abnormal sensation that continued to linger.

Galatea, no doubt sensing a bit of her pupil's unease, placed a hand on Minerva's shoulder. "Would you like to take a tour of Headquarters?"

_Dealg_ cleared his throat. "Surely she should hear of our plans and goals, _Faol_. After all," he glared at the young witch, "she _is_ to be ending this war."

"She is not being trained to _end_ the war, _Dealg. _She is here to _aid_ the resistance, as I have pointed out to you _numerous_ times!" Galatea barked defensively with a fire in her eyes. The man crossed his arms and kept his gaze steady as his Captain glared back, but otherwise remained silent. "Besides, we'll have time for that later. We have other things to discuss."

"Come along, dear," the small man squeaked in an effort to avoid the rising tension in the room. He grabbed her hand- too short to reach her arm -and dragged her off, letting the door close behind them automatically.

Quite happy to be out of the room, Minerva let out a sigh of relief and adjusted her hat. "I take it _Dealg _isn't too happy about me being here?"

"Humph!" Filius crossed his arms after motioning her to follow him. "_Dealg _has made it very clear that he's only here to protect the children of Hogsmeade, he has a son there. He's the fighter type, always looking for the action and tends to not think before he speaks. Something which tends to get him into a bit of trouble with our dear Captain." The tiny wizard's eyes drifted up towards her. "He thinks you're a threat to the children."

"Which I am."

Filius shrugged. "Perhaps, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be protected yourself, my dear. You've done nothing wrong."

Despite the fact that Minerva knew Filius was right, she couldn't help but feel that something was _wrong_ as well. She was quite sure it wasn't him, yet, she couldn't figure out what it was and that stubborn feeling beginning to surround her fact, it steadily intensified as they went around the manor, seeing the dueling room; dining area; main hallway for the sleeping quarters; and the study. Finally, the feeling in her chest grew to be almost painful as they neared the Owlery. The witch had to stop and place a hand on the wall to steady herself, when her highly acute nose picked up something strange.

"Are you feeling alright, _Dùil?_"

Minerva shook her head. "_Losgann_, do you smell that?"

"It's probably the owl droppings not picked up by the elves yet-"

"No, it's not..." the witch muttered absently as she fished out her wand and expanded her awareness. What she found was highly disturbing. She was smelling _blood_, and not just anyone's- "Oh Gods, no!"

The wizard squeaked as Minerva bust open the locked door and rushed inside, finding the Head Matron lying on the floor in a rather large pool of scarlet liquid being draining from her chest.

"Helena!" She ran to the trembling matron's side, ignoring her hat as it fell to the floor.

"Oh my!" Filius squeaked as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small emergency bottle of Dittany.

"M-Min-_va_... leave... you... g-go!" Helena's words were scrambled and her breathing was quick and ragged. Her eyes were clouded in pain and she seemed dazed and confused from the substantial blood loss. Her bloodied hands clutched at Minerva, shaking as the desperate Gryffindor used her wand to rip open the front of the matron's blood soaked robes, exposing the gaping wound and allowing Filius to pour the essence over it. The instant the medical substance came in contact with the open flesh, new skin immediately started forming. However, it was blatantly obvious that Helena was far from safe. There was too much blood on the floor and Minerva had no doubt that her own robes were heavily stained.

"It's okay, Helena," she whispered, holding the matron's hand as if she could still time while trying to calm her terrified heart. "It's okay, you're going to be all right."

Yet, even she couldn't believe her own words. Helena's body was becoming very cold, and though her heart was managing to continuously beat at a pace that was vastly quicker than normal, it didn't comfort Minerva at all. Things were getting bad. Filius muttered a warming charm over her as Minerva conjured a blanket and the two gently wrapped it around her. The matron began mumbling again, tears spilling out of her grey eyes and the Gryffindor couldn't tell if it was from the pain, the fear of leaving those she loved behind, or something more ominous that scared her.

"D-_Dealg... _M-M-e_rva_..."

"Shhh, don't talk. I'm not leaving you, Helena, it's okay. We're getting help, just hold on!" she pleaded, quickly taking out her mirror, making it pulse three times. She looked towards Filius who had remained on guard while she tended to the healer. "_Faol_'s been warned. Where's the nearest Floo? We have to get her to St. Mungo's!"

"It's down the hall and to the left!"

Minerva had barely begun to nod when she heard footsteps approaching. It was clearly only one person and, acting upon instinct, she unsheathed her decorated sword and nodded to Filius, who turned to point his wand at the door.

"B-Behind..." Helena whimpered weakly just as a bone chilling voice echoed through the room.

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen, dear girl."

The dark haired witch spun around just in time to see _Dealg _cast several daggers towards them. She couldn't feel them with her awareness, alerting her to the fact that they were cloaked and probably equipped with an anti-magic charm. Acting fast, Minerva transfigured her hat into a shield and levitated it in front of her, protecting herself and Helena. Filius seemed to have stopped his with a conjured steel rope, forcing the daggers to the ground. She took her chance and charged at the intruding wizard as he fired several curses in a flurry at the Dueling Champion, only to have the traitorous wizard send a raging inferno towards her.

"__Dùil_!"_ Filius yelled in alarm, but he, like their opponent, had underestimated her reflexes. The dark haired witch slid underneath the blaze a split second before it could singe her and swept her feet around _Dealg_'s, bringing him to the floor with a surprised cry. She was on her feet in a blink of an eye, stunning the traitor before anyone had a chance of reacting. Her breathing was completely calm and even, as if it had been nothing more than a simple training routine.

"By the stars..." the tiny wizard squeaked in amazement, then shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I'll alert St. Mungo's. You stay here with _Òran _until the rest of the _Spideagan_ [Nightingales] arrive."

The witch nodded her head briefly, then returned to the woman's side. Helena was still visibly shaking, her breathing terribly shallow and she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Minerva knew that all were obvious signs that the woman was continuing to fight for her life. It was enough for the young Gryffindor's fear to rise once again as she knelt next to the matron and gently gathered her into her arms, noticing at once that the woman's skin was considerably colder and definitely paler.

"Helena, can you hear me?" Minerva asked, continuing to purposefully not use the matron's alias in an effort to calm her while gently squeezing the her hand. "It's going to okay, we're all right. We're going to get you to St. Mungo's."

The woman murmured something incomprehensible, yet, her eyes betrayed their meaning; she was very worried, scared and confused, and all the same glad that the dark haired Gryffindor was alive. She seemed to understand that a battle had been fought, that they had won, but beyond that she probably didn't comprehend. Simply putting it, Helena was in a terrible state of shock and it terrified Minerva.

The dark haired witch could feel the matron's heart rate slowing and knew it wasn't a good sign, especially with the amount of blood the woman lost. She had to do something, _anything_ but wait here helplessly while watching the life drain from Helena's trembling body. While the Gryffindor was well aware that she did not know the Blood Replenishing charm, or ever even performed a healing spell, but there was no other option. She _knew _the Helena would die if it was not cast quickly, so she took a deep breath, moved the blanket and placed a gentle hand upon the matron's chest.

"Please work," she whispered, sending a pulse of magic through the woman's body. There was a soft glow, but it was only temporary. Nothing else happened. The healer did not stir, and there was no change leaving Minerva to curse the fact that she hadn't acted upon the feeling sooner.

"Hold on, Helena, _please._ You can't give up on me!" Her voice fell to a whisper as she held the woman closer as a feeling of helplessness began to take over. She had just started to know the woman on a personal level and begin realise how much Helena actually cared about her on the sidelines. The woman played a very important role in both her guardian's life as well as Poppy's, and Minerva didn't want to lose her. Not here, not now, and certainly not like _this!_

Suddenly, Galatea burst into the room. Her crystal eyes were wide and a fiercely determined expression was on her face, but the moment she saw Helena she let out a cry of horror and the stern façade disappeared completely. She didn't seem to notice, or care, that _Dealg_ was on the ground and unconscious as she rushed over to Helena's side. Tears stung gathered in her pale blue eyes as she understood how bad the situation was with one look in Minerva's eyes.

"It was _Dealg_, he attacked when we tried helping her. _Losgann_ is contacting St. Mungo's and he should be back soon," the younger witch tried to explain as several other members came into the room, all wearing a similar grievous expressions. Galatea merely nodded in acknowledgement, her hands brushed back Helena's curly blond hair as she took the injured witch into her arms- muttering soft, but fierce Gaelic words far too fast for Minerva to understand.

Nathan rushed towards the elder witch's side while _Saighead_ and _Eidheann_ hauled _Dealg _out of the room. "We should get her into the Fire Room until _Losgann_ signals that St. Mungo's is ready."

The Nightingale Captain nodded solemnly, cradling Helena closer as she rose and fled the room. Minerva was about to follow when _Sgiath_ stopped her, his large hand firm on her shoulder.

"Nay, _Dùil._ Ye better be getting back to Hogwarts."

The young witch felt a pulse of fury flow through her veins as she forcefully removed the restraint. "The devil with that, I'm going with _Faol!"_

"Think of yer safety, child!" he stepped closer to her in an intimidating manner.

Minerva fearlessly glared at the man only a few inches taller than her. "_Òran_ was attacked for my _'safety'_! I will _not_ go into hiding without knowing if she has died because of _me!"_

"_Sgiath_, she's close to both of them," Nathan stepped between them, "and _Faol_ would want the lass to be with her." Not waiting for an answer from his surly colleague, the man turned to the young Gryffindor. "Go, I'll inform yer friends on happened and bring Miss Pomfrey to yeh soon."

"Thank you, _Broc_." She flashed him an appreciative glance before taking off towards the Fire Room, praying to whatever gods that would listen that Helena would somehow make it through.

* * *

><p>While making her way to St. Mungo's Infirmary waiting room, she came to the conclusion that the hospital was much larger than what she had read. It was almost a labyrinth and very difficult to find her destination. When she entered the room, there were several witches and wizards in side, all of whom had expressions the exact opposite of cheerful- although if there was a contest for most devastated, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor would have won by a landslide. Tears were still pooled in her distant, pale blue eyes and her hands were visibly shaking. She looked as if she was barely keeping it together, or maybe she wasn't and this is was how she reacted. Either way, Galatea was distraught, and it hurt to see the woman in such a state not only because she despised the thought of her mentor in any pain, but it also meant that Helena's condition obviously wasn't any better- or, dare she think it, worse.<p>

Minerva swallowed. Surely the situation couldn't get much_ 'worse'_ without the matron dying. Unless that had already happened, and if that was the case, the professor was going to need her more than ever before.

As steadily as she could, the green-eyed witch walked over to Galatea's side, noticing that the professor didn't once glance her way, or even seem to realise there was someone at her side. She looked considerably more frail than during the meeting, almost as if everything she had ever done, all her battles, were catching up on her at this very moment. Even when the younger witch placed a hand on her guardian's shoulder, there was only a faint flicker of movement from the woman's eyes, just enough that Minerva knew she recognized who was with her.

"Is she all right?"

Galatea shook her head in a helpless manner. "_Chan eil fhios agam_ [I do not know]." A tear slid down her cheek and her voice seemed to shatter. "_Chan eil fhios rud sam bith_ [I do not know anything]..."

The Gryffindor's chest felt compressed, as if someone was squeezing the air out of her lungs. It hurt to hear the woman speak so dejectedly, to the point where she had to completely shove aside her emotions to prevent herself from succumbing to a broken heart. This was the stern and deadly Professor Merrythought; Auror for fifteen years, Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher of forty-two years and Captain of the Nightingales, who was in the middle of an emotional breakdown in public. But it didn't end there. Minerva wrapped her arms around the woman without protest, and the fact that Galatea didn't care they were showing that the two of them had some sort of personal relationship in plain sight, spoke for itself. There was no doubt in her mind that if Helena really was gone, part of this great and wonderful witch, her guardian and mentor, would be gone as well.

She felt the older woman shudder and another tear slide off her cheek, landing on the her shoulder as Galatea slowly embraced her back. Minerva found herself wanting to say something to help take the pain away but she didn't know what could possibly do that. Saying that it was all '_going to be okay'_ would either be a lie, or something she couldn't truly know. In all honesty, the Gryffindor was already half convinced Helena would not make it- the amount of blood didn't lie, nor did the matron's state before she left for the hospital. However, her heart was what kept her fighting. She wouldn't accept it until she heard and saw otherwise.

Inhaling deeply, Minerva snapped from her agitated thoughts and noticed two medi-witches on the far side of the room glancing in her direction, whispering amongst themselves fiercely as if having an argument. She attuned her ears quickly, wondering if she'd have to deal with yet another problem, or if it was about Helena.

"I don't think that'd be wise, Sarah. It's Professor Merrythought, for Merlin's sake! You don't just demand things of her!"

"I don't care. She's got blood on her robe, and that girl who's with her is in a far worse state! She looks as if she just escaped a massacre!"

"They've probably been through a lot. I mean, Hogwarts' Head Matron came in with her heart barely beating!"

At the medi-witch's words, the younger witch caught her breath and looked up to see if Galatea was hearing this, but thankfully it didn't seem like the professor was aware of much that was going on around her at the moment.

"Give them some more time," the nurse continued to usher. "They'll probably realize it in a few minutes and syphon the blood away themselves."

Minerva blinked a few times, then looked down at her robe. Indeed, it was heavily stained and she couldn't blame the nurses for being concerned. After just a few words, she had Galatea sit down without protest, and with a wave of her hand, the blood disappeared. She looked back at the pair of healers, mainly to see if there was another 'problem' but they seemed satisfied and left.

The younger witch sighed, not knowing what else to do, but when she glanced at her mentor once more- continued to see the heartbreak and unbearableness of being left adrift in the unknown -she knew what the woman needed was stable ground to keep her head above the frightening water.

"Galatea?" The professor slowly blinked as she barely turned her solemn face towards the Gryffindor. "I'm sure you already know this, but no matter what happens I'm here for you."

She watched as the woman struggled to figure out how to respond. She seemed to want to say something, but every time the words would get caught in her throat, holding her back. Not able to take much more of watching her suffering, Minerva gently placed a hand on her mentor's cheek.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything."

"_Luaidh... _darling, I-" Galatea stopped, looking up as a medi-wizard came in and glanced around the room, but to their great displeasure, he didn't call Helena's name. Minerva's heart began to ache with worry, she couldn't imagine what her mentor must be feeling right now.

Suddenly, Poppy's frantic voice echoed in her head. _Minerva? Min, are you at St. Mungo's?_

_Yes, I'm in the Infirmary's waiting room with Galatea._

_Oh Gods... So, is what _Broc_ said true then? Helena was attacked?_

The green-eyed witch swallowed, her emotions swirling around her as thoughts and images began to flash before her eyes. Poppy no doubt received a few of them through their connection as Minerva felt how the apprentice quivered.

_How bad?_ Her sister demanded.

_Poppy-_

_How bad, Minerva? Is Helena alive or not?_

_I..._ She stopped, remembering the pool of scarlet on the floor; how cold the matron had been; her confusion and tears. She remembered Galatea's piercing cry and how distraught she had sounded.

_Minerva? For Merlin's sake, answer me! Your emotions are scaring me enough as it is!_

_Sorry, Poppy. The truth is we don't know, but... just don't get your hopes up._

Her sister's shock hit her like a brick wall. _What? Minerva McGonagall, I swear to you, if you're joking-_

_I wish I was. _The green-eyed witch had barely noticed how hard she was clenching her fists. _I wish I hadn't been such an idiot and ignored that odd feeling. I should have known it was Avrenim trying to tell me I was needed! Helena wouldn't be in such a grave state and Galatea wouldn't be hurting so much if I had only paid attention! The Spideagan _[Nightingales] _wouldn't be-_

_All right, Minerva, all right!_ Poppy interrupted timely._ I believe you. Now stop your moping 'til I get there. You'll have to tell me everything and hope I don't tear up- if anything can scare you this bad..._

Minerva bowed her head for a moment, then turned to Galatea. The elder witch seemed nearly oblivious to everything but the incoming nurses. Nevertheless, she knew her mentor would be concerned where she was going if she didn't speak.

"I'll be back. Poppy's on her way and I'll need to fill her in."

"Poppy?" Her brows narrowed, but then relaxed as the professor slowly nodded. "Yes, she should be here."

The Gryffindor placed a hand on Galatea's shoulder then left for the main entrance. She didn't have to wait very long for her sister to appear. Despite her russet hair being in disarray from running and her near panicked state, Poppy was definitely a sight for sore eyes. They quickly embraced, relishing in the comfort of their sisterly bond.

"You have no idea how good it is to see you right now."

"Same here," the apprentice said quietly, allowing the dark haired witch to whisper a silencing charm around them. "Rola and I have been on edge ever since you left with Merrythought for the meeting. We tried to ignore it, but it only got worse, much worse! We thought something must have happened to you, and the minute _Broc_ came through the Gryffindor Floo, there was no doubt in my mind that something horrible _had_ happened! And poor Rola, she tried to persuade _Broc_ to let her come, but he said it wouldn't be wise. I felt so horrible leaving her, but she insisted I go. Besides, _someone_ has to keep Lutrov from wondering where we all are."

"Sounds like a job for Augusta, if you ask me."

To her sister's mild surprise, Poppy pursed her lips. Granted it was very faint and brief, and followed by a sharp intake of air as if to rid herself of her thoughts, but it happened. "Yes, well, if she wasn't entertaining Kevin, then she might be of some use."

The pair went back to the waiting room and sat down across from Galatea, with the dark haired witch stealing a quick glance at her guardian who, as she predicted, had not moved or changed her somber expression.

"At any rate," the apprentice continued, her voice becoming quiet as though she was dreading to hear what came next. "What happened, Min? What in Merlin's name happened to Helena that has you in such a bloody fright? You said something about ignoring Avrenim...?"

Try as she might, Minerva could not keep the guilt from grabbing hold of her chest.

"I didn't realise it was her trying to warn me. I should have. Had I not misunderstood it as nerves at first, I might have known." She paused for a moment as a medi-witch came in, but as before, it was not for them. "The feeling started just before I Flooed into the Headquarters and, as you felt, it progressively became worse. After the initial introduction, I went on a tour with another member when I smelt blood and found Helena lying on the floor."

Her anxiety rose another notch just by remembering how horrid the situation had been, and she could feel her sister's own fear rising as well.

"I don't know how long she had been left there like that, but she was very cold, shaking and on the verge of shock. There was _so_ much blood, Poppy, more than I've ever seen in my life- not even when Rola was mauled have I seen so much." She felt the apprentice's heart lurch before the tears came. "To the point where there is no doubt in my mind that Helena could very well be dead, or dying right now... but we just don't know."

The dark haired witch felt the grief that wedged itself within her sister's chest like a knife as Poppy shook her head, causing more tears to fall.

"No. No, Minerva... Min, she's a healer, she's not the one who's supposed to be dying for Merlin's sake! Helena has to teach me, she has to help me with my studies and dealing with..." The apprentice caught her shaking breath, only to shudder and gulp back her sobs as Minerva pulled her closer, wrapping her arms tightly around the grieving girl. "This isn't- it's not supposed to happen this way!"

The green-eyed witch wholeheartedly agreed. If there was ever a time and place, this wasn't it. There was so much death and fear as of late, she hated to think how drastically things could change- not only at Hogwarts, but with her life in general. She wondered what she'd do, yet as her weary green-eyes drifted towards her mentor once more, she knew _exactly_ what the answer was. She told the woman she would be there for her no matter what happened, and if there was anything her father had taught his children, it was to always keep their word.

If Helena was truly gone, then Minerva would need to look after Galatea- there was no question about it. Given the fact that she was now of legal age, she could also very well stay with her during the summer if she so choose. Her parents would without a doubt not take kindly to it it, but Galatea was more important now. Especially when compared with her mother.

When Poppy's tears came to a halt and her breathing evened out, the green-eyed witch noticed the professor standing and looking out the window, and decided it best to get back to her mentor. She gave her sister's shoulder one last squeeze, then stood up.

"Come on, I told Galatea I'd be back. Besides, I don't want to leave her alone for too long."

Her sister mimicked her, but tangled their hands together. Her expression was still somber, but the shock was wearing off.

"Probably for the best." Minerva was about to set off, but Poppy held her back again. "Um- Min, is she all right with _us_ being with her in public like this? I mean, I know she's your mentor and all, but she's not one to make her personal life known."

The green-eyed witch shrugged. "I think at this point she couldn't care less about the world around her, the only thing that really matters in her eyes at the moment is Helena. Besides, she said you should be here."

"She did?"

"Yes, I heard her myself. Now come on, we'll wait together."

As it was, Galatea really wasn't aware of much, although she did manage to glance at Poppy before turning her head back towards the window. She closed her eyes, then rested her forearms on the sill. She still looked devastated, although a little less overwhelmed now. Maybe it was because of the time spent here and the reasoning that the longer they went without news, the longer it meant Helena was still alive.

Yet, as the minutes ticked by, turning into an hour and then two, Minerva began to wonder what could possibly be taking them so long. Could they not at least send someone to give them an update? Then an idea occurred to her that maybe that's what it was, they simply didn't have an update to give. Helena could still very well be on the brink of life or death and the staff didn't have a clear prognosis as of which way she'd go. But even then, surely they should at least tell them that.

Every time a healer came into the waiting room, all three witches would look up, hoping to hear Helena's name being called as the signal, but they never did. Every single, agonizing minute that passed by simply added to the tension.

Galatea had turned around again by now, arms crossed and her back against the wall in a position that made it seem she was deliberately rooting her feet to the floor as if to prevent herself from pacing. It tore Minerva up inside just watching her. She wanted to be at the woman's side, to help in some way, but she got the feeling her mentor needed to be alone- relatively speaking -and that itself was hard to withstand. Especially when she found herself replaying the earlier scene over and over in her mind, subconsciously trying to find something she could have done differently that would have possibly given Helena a better chance to live. But there was nothing, except for listening to Avrenim, and she had a horrible feeling this guilt would stay with her for a long time.

It was another half hour before the doors opened again and this time it was a Matron that came through. However, he did not announce anything, he simply walked over towards the three witches. His face offered no answer and Minerva thought her nerves couldn't possibly take much more when he finally spoke.

"You are waiting on the news for Madam Helena Nurix, yes?"

* * *

><p><strong>Oh no, a cliffhanger again! :O <strong>

**It wasn't my intention to make this three parts, but the length of this is nuts, and I don't know about you, but I'd like to keep my beta's sane. I've also started college... woo!  
>~LinK<strong>


	34. Not Supposed to Happen This Way part III

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

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><p><strong>~We're finally on the last part of Chapter 30. <strong>Spin and Em deserve a lot hugs and thanks, not only because Spin's been suffering through a really bad virus, but for sticking with me this long journey ;) And we're not even halfway done yet. Ha. Also, you readers and reviewers, thank you for your wonderful support and patience even as I seemingly enjoy tormenting you all with angst and cliffhangers :D

**~I realize that the code-names can get confusing as for who is who sometimes,** so if you ever need to refresh, there is a page on the website with everyone and their positions (including one member who has yet to make an appearance.)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 30 - Not Supposed to Happen This Way, Part III<br>**

**November 13th, 1942 (continued):**

It was maddening- she could feel her sisters' emotions, even glimpse the memories that flashed through their minds, but she could not communicated with them- they were just too far away. Sometimes their connection was a gift and other times, like this, it was a curse. Today, Rolanda absolutely detested it. She could shut herself off, however, she wanted- _needed_ to know the outcome to ease the unending dread that was definitely taking its toll on her.

Finally, not able to take it anymore, she tried her daredevil flying- opening a window and jumping out, positioning the broom under her feet, then taking off as fast as she could around the turrets. Her mother would have screamed, cried, scolded and begged her to _never_ pull a stunt like that again had she seen it. Rolanda knew the danger and very well could never blame her mother, or anyone else for being worried when she flew like a maniac, but it truly was just a method that helped her breathe during such crazy times.

She wished Xavier was here with her, to hold her as she tried to cope with the tension of the day. She kept telling herself that it was _just_ another two years and she could be with him, but right now, two years seemed like an eternity and Rolanda missed him terribly. She kept fiddling with her ring every time her sisters' emotions quivered. It was as if someone was crying. It took a moment before she recognized it as Poppy and had to force herself to quickly land, fearing that her concentration would become compromised. She _hated_ not being able to comfort her sisters.

"Rolanda!"

The hawk-eyed witch turned sharply on her heel, praying it wasn't Mikail that interrupted her. Thankfully, it was Malcom, although judging by the dark look on his face, she almost wished it was the Russian.

"Where is my sister?" he demanded, his eyes clouded with with sorrow.

Rolanda, suddenly remembering that the siblings had made a connection on Halloween, she immediately understood. "You feel it too?"

"Yes!" the Ravenclaw hissed. "Now where is she?"

The witch swallowed, not exactly sure what to tell him. She checked her surroundings for anyone nearby before leaning and and speaking in a hushed whisper. "You have to promise not to tell _anyone!_ It's very important that _no-one_ knows."

"Fine, I promise, just tell me what's going on!"

"Minerva's with Professor Merrythought at St. Mungo's. Madam Nurix was attacked and, well, from her emotions I'd say it's not good."

"_Attacked?"_

Rolanda quickly covered his mouth. "Shh! Keep your voice down for Merlin's sake! Yes, attacked. I can't say more, I don't even think I should be telling you this. If you _must_ talk to someone, then talk to Professor Merrythought. I'd give it a few days though, Monday would probably be best."

"I'll do that, but, Rola, why is Minerva with _Merrythought _of all people? She's not even her Head of House."

The witch couldn't help but laugh. "That's probably something that you should ask Min."

Malcom narrowed his eyes. "Why all the secrets?"

"Because it's _dangerous_. I mean it when I say tell _no-one_- especially your mother!"

"Don't worry," the boy's green eyes darkened, "I don't tell her much of anything these days."

Rolanda frowned. She knew how much trouble Isobel had been recently, and while she sometimes envied that the McGonagall children still had both parents, she'd much rather have a mother that loved her unconditionally than one who lied and shoved her children aside- or wanted one of them _dead_ for that matter.

* * *

><p>"<em>You are waiting on the news for Madam Helena Nurix, yes?"<em>

Minerva watched Galatea take two heavy steps towards the matron while her own heart rate sped up. She could feel Poppy bracing for the dreaded words that might come as their professor spoke the question that had plagued their hearts for over two hours.

"What has happened? Is... Is Helena alive?"

The wizard's momentary hesitation was agonizing, but when his facial expression did not change, a spark of hope ignited in Minerva's chest.

"I didn't think I would be saying this until about ten minutes ago, but Madam Nurix is alive. She is very weak and unconscious, but she _will _live."

The relief in the room was highly palpable. Minerva turned to see moisture welling in her mentor's eyes as a hand covered her mouth to muffle a cry that sent the dark haired Gryffindor scrambling to her side for support. In the back of her mind she felt Poppy's shock slowly fade away while Galatea placed a shaky hand on Minerva's shoulder to steady herself.

"Thank the Gods," the elder witch breathed after seemingly recovering her voice. "Can we see her?"

The matron shook his head. "I'm sorry, Professor, but since she is unconscious, it's immediate family only."

That was definitely the wrong thing to say to the esteemed ex-Auror. Galatea's eyes abruptly hardened as her body went into a rigid, almost threatening stance. Minerva could actually feel the magic sparking from her mentor as her anger boiled to the surface.

"You dinnae understand, _she has __**no-one**__ else!_ You have to let me see her!" The ferocity of her voice was terrifying as she railed at the wizard- and for a scant moment, both Minerva and Poppy were afraid she was going to attack him. "And if you still insist on following your bloody _policies,_ then make the call to your executive, Delmar Kenneth, and he will set you straight!"

Minerva's eyes widened, as did the healer's- although his was out of well placed fear of the formidable witch -as he nodded reluctantly.

"V-Very well, Professor, but I'm afraid I can only allow entry to you alone."

The elder witch's demeanor calmed slightly at his words, although she was still visibly furious with the man for almost denying her, and turned towards the girls. "I will be back to let you know how she is, I promise."

With that she left in a flurry of blue tartan robes, leaving the two Gryffindor witches alone in her wake- both still rather shocked. Minerva stood there for a moment, her feet rooted to the floor as she tried to process what she had witnessed. Helena being alive was the best news she had heard in a long time, yet, watching Galatea go through such a whirlwind of emotions had thrown her off a little. From crying tears of joy to suddenly yelling at the healer while barely restraining herself from attacking him, made the green-eyed witch realize just how formidable the Defensive Arts Professor really was.

After a moment, she returned to her seat to be with her sister, who was quite obviously trying to fight her own tears.

"I can't believe it. I mean, I can, but- oh sweet Merlin, she's alive!" Minerva simply rubbed circles on Poppy's back as she continued to hug her- she could hardly believe it either. Suddenly the apprentice stiffened, glanced at her sister with a perplexed expression, then back to where Galatea had stood just a moment ago. "Wait a minute..."

The green-eyed witch raised a brow. "What is it?"

"Put a silencing charm around us again."

With a small frown of confusion, she obeyed. "All right, now what's this about?"

"I didn't tell you about the conversation I had with Helena. I meant to, but with the Chamber's monster attacking students and now this, I-"

"Poppy, get to the point."

The girl took a deep breath. "Helena doesn't use her Patronus unless it's for a dire emergency. She hinted that hers changed to match someone she loves and fears that if the Untergang gets wind of it, they will exploit their relationship as a means of getting to either of them."

Minerva narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what Poppy was getting at. "Go on."

"Galatea just said that Helena _'had no-one else'._ We know they're close enough to know each other's personal lives and I highly doubt there's anything kept secret between them. Now, it could mean that the person Helena loves can't come to see her- maybe they're dead, but that doesn't seem likely with how she talking about her situation -or..." her voice dipped into a whisper, "it's Galatea."

The dark haired witch blinked a few times as it all sunk in. The woman's speech about an Animagi's Patronus never changing, the knowledge that another's would change into the other person's; and then the odd looks and moments from Helena that seemed to radiate something far deeper from within her like the night Galatea was attacked, or even when bidding Minerva a seemingly simple goodnight. The fact that Galatea was the Captain of the Nightingales- the archenemy of the Untergang -would _very_ much raise the stakes to drive someone to keep their Patronus hidden Those bastards would do anything to get the elder witch, to expose her and get rid of her once and for all. It all seemed to fit. A very happy fit, if what she had seen of their apparent relationship already.

"I think you might be right, Poppy, but we cannot tell _anyone._ With the Untergang so close to Hogwarts now, they have every reason to be cautious,_ if _it is even right that they are together. Besides, we still need confirmation or some sort of proof, so don't be getting this idea set in your head yet."

The apprentice smiled softly. "Do you think we should ask them? I mean, I don't want it to be awkward, and if we're wrong..."

"No," the dark haired witch shuddered at the thought of asking and being incorrect. She, like most people, didn't particularly enjoy awkward situations, and that had the potential to be _very_ awkward. "No, I think we should just wait and see. It's obvious they have a very close relationship, regardless of whether they are... intimate."

Poppy couldn't wipe the intently joyful look upon her face and she turned to look at Minerva once more. "Why am I so happy?"

"Because your mentor is alive and you think you have her love life figured out. Now you'll have to stop grinning like an idiot, or people will start asking questions- we're in the Infirmary's waiting room, for Merlin's sake!"

"I know, I know." She sighed, a bit too cheerfully, as she leaned into Minerva again and yawned. They fell into silence as the dark haired witch closed her eyes, enjoying the quiet for a moment, before Poppy spoke up again. "What's going to happen now, Min? I mean, if you're not even safe at their Headquarters..."

"I don't know, Poppy. I don't know why _Dealg_ attacked- he could have been acting solo, or working undercover for the Untergang."

Poppy sniffed. "If he _is_ working the Untergang, then does that rule Lutrov out as a spy, or strengthen the likelihood?"

Minerva thought very carefully before answering, but in the end couldn't give one. "At this point, neither. There's too many what-ifs."

"Could you talk to Galatea about it for me, please?"

"Of course, Poppy." The dark haired witch placed a kiss on the apprentice's cheek. "It's very near to the top of my long list of things to ask her."

Poppy nodded around a yawn, slowly falling asleep on her shoulder allowing Minerva the opportunity to slowly and carefully cut off her connections as thoughts began to swirling around her mind. For the third time in barely over a year, someone close to her had nearly died for reasons she knew could be traced back to her. She feared who would be next, wondered if she'd be there to protect them and keep them alive.

* * *

><p>It was it was a full half an hour before the elder witch returned to the waiting room. Poppy had nearly dozed off, but snapped wide awake when Minerva nudged her. Galatea looked exhausted, and her face was still grim, but she seemed less devastated than before.<p>

"How is she?" Poppy asked quietly as the professor sat down heavily beside them.

"She is breathing on her own, which considering the shape her body is still in, it's absolutely incredible." She sighed. "They are going to keep her medically sedated for twenty-four hours to allow her body to heal faster and they can monitor her better. They believe she will make a full recovery, she might be a little slower for the next few weeks, but she should be back to normal after that."

Minerva sniffed quietly. She wasn't sure what made her think that the professor was perverting the truth- maybe it was her own anxiety colouring her judgement, or perhaps simply because she couldn't see the matron for herself. Poppy, however, didn't seem to share her sister's feelings, her relief was unmistakable, although she frowned after a few moments. "That means we can't see her then, doesn't it? Not until she wakes?"

"Unfortunately you are correct." The professor placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I am sorry, Poppy. If it was my decision to make, you both would have come with me to see her."

Minerva bit back a soft smile as the hazel-eyed witch blinked a few times, looking up at Galatea as though she could not believe the words she coming from her mouth. After all, who would believe the strict, and usually deemed, cold _Professor Merrythought_ would say such a thing to a student. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came of it and she simply nodded.

"Now," the elder witch motioned for the two Gryffindors to follow her to the St. Mungo's waiting room Floo, "I should apologize for separating you two after all this, but there is some _unfinished business_ to take care of at Headquarters- and Minerva," the green-eyed witch looked up at her mentor, noticing an odd expression in her eyes, "we really need to talk about what happened."

Despite being reluctant, Minerva nodded, she had known it would be inevitable. They waited for Poppy be transported back to Hogwarts before Flooing back to the Headquarters' Library.

"Make yourself comfortable," the Nightingale Captain said as she walked over to her desk, charmed a quill and notepad, then sat down next to the her. "I'd like you to start from when you left the War Room with _Losgann._"

The green-eyed witch sat in silence for a moment, collecting her thoughts and debating whether to tell Galatea about her feeling Helena's _need._ She eventually decided against it, not wanting to further upset the woman, or create anymore drama than they were already embroiled in.

"We toured the building," she began, not realising that her fists were already beginning to clench as she remembered the events that seemed so long ago, "nothing untoward happened until we neared the Owlery and I could smell the blood. I realised it was Hel- _Òran_ and I opened the door." Minerva swallowed against the lump in her throat. "I saw her lying on the ground with a horrible gash on her chest. _Losgann_ used the Essence of Dittany and we were able to wrap her in a blanket until we heard footsteps."

"_Dealg?_"

The green-eyed witch nodded. "He attacked us with conjured knives. I transfigured my hat into a shield, then stunned him. After that, _Losgann_ ran to get St. Mungo's and I stayed with Helena until you came."

She looked up at her mentor whose blue eyes were narrowed in thought, and gave into the fear that still loomed in her mind.

"_Faol_, is _Òran _really okay? I mean..." Minerva swallowed as the memory of the sheer amount of blood pooling on the floor underneath the Head Matron came back to her, and she shivered.

"Yes, darling, I promise you, she is all right. Miraculously." With a sigh, the green-eyed witch finally believed her mentor's words, even as Galatea started talking again with a rather serious expression. "There is one question I must ask, though. Was it you, or _Losgann_ that placed a healing spell upon _Òran _before I came in?"

The question, combined with Galatea's strange tone made her unsure if what she had done was a good thing or bad.

"I did." She swallowed, remembering how cold the matron had been in her arms. "I didn't know what to do, I just knew she was dying and that if something wasn't done she'd probably... I didn't make things worse, did I?"

"Gods no, darling, not worse. You saved her life! She would have been too far gone if you had not cast that spell... I do not know what you used, nor how you did it, but you somehow managed to jump start her her body's healing stage and keep her heart from stopping altogether!" Tears welled up in Galatea's eyes again as she cupped Minerva's face. "You are a miracle in my life in so many ways. You saved Helena's life and that is something I do not think I could _ever_ properly thank you for!"

Minerva frowned and looked away. "Please don't thank me. I'm just glad she's alive."

She didn't want thanks, didn't want anyone to think that what she had done excused her actions for letting the Head Matron suffer. The elder witch opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by three raps on the door, alerting them to a visitor and she dried her eyes instead. Minerva briefly composed herself, then opened the door, revealing none other than the darkly clad, lavender-eyed wizard.

"Ah, _Ath-sgal_ said yeh'd both be here by now." Nathan looked at the younger witch. "How are yeh holding up, _Dùil_?"

Minerva shrugged her shoulders, not entire sure herself. "I've been through worse."

The wizard's face scrunched up in disbelief clearly wondering what she could have been through to consider this sequence of events in such a way. "Surely not?"

"Well, physically, I guess. It's a long story."

"I imagine," he returned his focus to his leader. "_Dealg_ woke up about fifteen minutes ago, but he isn't talking."

"Oh, he will talk when _I_ am through with him!" Galatea's spat, her eyes narrowed, glinting with hate for a moment before glancing at Minerva. "Will you stay with her until I am finished?"

The wizard nodded, his eyes fixed on the younger witch as Galatea stood the leave the room, causing Minerva to frown. She had half hoped to be with her mentor during the interrogation.

"Wait, _Faol,_ I'd like to come with you."

At her words, the Nightingale Captain stiffened in response, then turned around to gaze at her young protegée. "No, I do not think that would be wise."

"But-"

Galatea held up her hand. "It is not because of your age nor for your protection, darling." Her eyes darkened considerably as she paused. "I am not, by _any_ means, a nice person while interrogating someone. Not many can stay in the same room without losing their nerve, not even _Broc_."

Nathan shuddered. "I thought everyone was joking at first, I'm never goin' to make that mistake again."

Minerva pursed her lips. "If I am supposed to help in this war, then should I not learn how to effectively inquire information? Horrible or not, I need to learn these things."

The elder witch seemed to consider this for a moment, but then curtly shook her head as if to remove a terrible thought. "No, not with this one. Maybe another time, but I can not allow you to be present during an interrogation that is so... _personal._"

"Should _Sgiath_ be with yeh on this one?" Minerva watched as her guardian's long fingers curled tightly around the door handle as she considered the wizard's question.

"Yes," she breathed in a quiet, haunting manner. "Yes, I think that would be for the best. I will fetch him."

She left without another word, leaving the younger witch alone with the darkly clad wizard, who shuddered as he gazed at the closed door.

"Glad I'm not goin' in there, or anywhere _near _there. It's not goin' to be a pretty thing if _Dealg_ chooses not to cooperate," he muttered under his breath before clicking his tongue and sat on the couch. "I'm glad she dinnae let you _'observe'_ this one, especially since _Òran_...Well, anyone who messes with those _Faol_ loves is without a doubt marked for death, or worse."

"So I've heard." The Gryffindor began looking around for something to preoccupy her thoughts while they waited, when an idea clicked. "Care for a game of chess?"

Nathan looked at her for a moment before nearly laughing with amusement. "I'm not sure if you've heard how horrible our Captain is at chess, despite her brilliant tactical mind, but I am no better. Well, perhaps a hair," he winked, "but donae tell her I said that."

Minerva chuckled. "I shall try to keep the game fair."

She conjured a chessboard and, as usual, chose black. They played a few rounds, enough for the wizard's words to prove amusingly correct, before she could no longer control her curious mind.

"May I ask how close _Òran_ and _Faol_ are?"

A corner of the wizard's mouth curled in a faint smile. "I think yeh can form a fairly good judgement by her reaction to seeing _Òran_ in the state she was in. Don't yeh?"

"Fair enough." The witch leaned forward moving her pieces, smirking when her opponent huffed. "Can you tell me how you know _Faol_? It seems like you've known each other for quite some time."

Nathan nodded and appeared to relax a bit more, getting a little more into the game. "Yer correct. I've known her since I were a wee lad. We grew up together, went to school together, and trained as Aurors together."

"Got in trouble together too?"

"Oh yes." The wizard's smile broadened as he chuckled softly, yet, when he moved a piece on the board, a solemn and absent look overcoming his features. "Best mates, she and I."

An odd silence crept between the two opponents, one that made Minerva frown. "Did something happen?"

She kept her eyes on him and waved her hand, moving her bishop into play.

"Other than fate havin' it's way with her?" The wizard asked sharply, not really directing it his question at anyone.

"What do you mean?"

Nathan's eyes glazed over for a moment as if remembering a painful memory. "Forgive me, that was a bit cryptic, wasn't it? What I mean is, yeh don't become a person like _Faol_ overnight, and yeh can't live as she does without going through challenges that morally conflict yeh." He sighed. "To answer yer previous question, yeh could say that after her parents were killed, _Faol_ was never truly the same person I once knew- very cold and distant."

"Her parents were killed? As in _murdered?_" she winced internally at the obviousness of the question, but it didn't seem to mind the wizard.

"Mmm, yes, quite brutally too. It took her over a decade to really move on and let love touch her heart again." He made his move, keeping his eyes on the board instead of Minerva as she reeled in the shock. She had figured the woman's parents, or at least her father, were gone considering she now carried his mirror on her person. Hearing that they had been murdered, however, gave her a whole new perspective of her guardian's personal life.

"A group of us, Aurors and friends, were out celebrating her birthday when _Faol_ got the news... that wasn't a good day."

Minerva wet her lips, her mouth suddenly dry as her mind conjured up terrible scenarios of how her mentor would have taken the news. She shook her head and quickly asked another question to keep her voice working. "Was the Untergang responsible?"

Nathan opened his mouth, but then a puzzled expression came over his face and he pursed his lips. He remained as such for a while- long enough for the witch to wonder if Galatea had asked him not to speak of it, but that thought disappeared as he started talking again.

"Yeh know something, _Dùil?_ I don't think I ever found that out..." He shrugged. "I guess I simply assumed it had been those rotten bastards because the day after her parent's funeral, she started the _Spidegan_ [Nightingales]." There was a pause as he took one of her pawns, but it was obvious he was still lost in his memories. "Mrs and Mr Merrythought were also highly acclaimed, extremely well respected Aurors- in fact, her entire lineage is full of them. Her family accumulated many enemies, but also powerful allies and _Faol_ used that to her advantage when creating _'us',_ so to speak."

By now, if Nathan could not see her thoughts churning, the witch would have thought the man to be blind. "And when were her parents killed?"

"1893," he glanced at her with with his dark brows narrowed. "Why'd yeh ask?"

She shrugged, her eyes betraying nothing of the sympathetic pain in her heart. Adding in that date and the length of time it took for the elder witch to move on, corresponded with what Helena considered Galatea's _'darker years'._ She wondered what happened that changed her mentor and if the matron had been the one to warm her heart and shield it from the evils of the world.

"Just wondering."

"Uh huh," the wizard muttered as he stole her bishop. "Then I don't suppose yeh mind me askin' yeh a few questions now? Yeh know, '_just wondering'._"

He smirked, although it quickly soured as Minerva took his queen with an gleam in her eye. "No, I don't mind at all."

"Hmph, nicely played. Well then, how about we start with what yeh consider 'worse' than tonight."

The witch's hands toyed with the top of her queen for a moment, twirling it back and forth. "Did _Faol _ever mention what happened last year on Halloween?" She took his silence and raised brow as a 'no' and continued. "Then imagine a Banshee taking your sister into the Forbidden Forest and having to fight off a whole pack of them without knowing if she would survive or not."

Nathan blinked, as if he was having trouble trying to understand how the witch was in front of him now. "Yes, I can see that being deemed worse, much worse indeed."

"_Broc! Duil!_" _Eidheann _rushed into the room so suddenly, Minerva almost had her wand out and ready to fire. "Quickly, come- oh, for the love of Merlin! You're playing chess? Against _this_ baboon?"

"Hey!" The wizard exclaimed, narrowing his eyes at the redhead. "She hasn't beaten me yet!"

The dark haired witch smirked and waved her hand, moving her essential piece. "Well I have now, checkmate."

Nathan threw his hands in the air. "I give up. This game never ceases to make me look like a fool."

"You do that on your own, old friend." The older witch's dark green eyes danced with laughter, although it disappeared with a shake of her head, her features becoming serious once more as she started towards the door. "Now come along you two, _Faol_ is almost done with the interrogation log and I got a feeling she'll have orders for us when she finishes."

Minerva quickly got to her feet, following them both down the dimly lit corridor.

"Is _Dealg_ still alive?" Nathan asked, keeping in pace with _Eidheann._

The redhead shrugged. "Would it surprise you if he wasn't? I mean really, _Broc,_ he is a traitor. He tried to kill _Dùil_ and almost succeeded with _Òran!_ You can't possibly have any hope she'll let him live after this."

"She might, if it makes a difference to where his wife goes to for safety. _Faol _gets so focused on revenge that she-" the wizard glanced back at the dark haired witch, cutting his sentence off and earning a glare from his colleague.

"You also need to remember that _Dealg_ knows too much- and you _know_ that _Dealg_ would not be in prison for long. He would find a way out and then flee to the Untergang!"she spat as if the words were poison on her lips. "I'd much see him dead, than risk those bastards finding out what he knows. That is, of course, assuming he isn't actually _with_ them- however, if that _is_ the case, then he can rot in hell for the chaos he will have created for us all!"

Nathan didn't say anything else and silence fell over them like a blanket, leaving Minerva to her thoughts. She watched absently as the wizard walked ahead, leaving the _Eidheann_ to let the younger witch to walk at her side while stealing glances at the her as if she still couldn't believe Minerva was here.

"_Losgann_ spoke well of your battle against _Dealg._"

The dark haired witch blinked, shrugging off the praise. "I fight to survive and rely on my instincts. That's all."

Surprisingly, the redhead smiled. She was an inch or so shorter than Minerva, making everything that she did a little more obvious.

"You sound just like _Faol_. I'm glad you're here, dear, if anything just to see the utter shock the Untergang will get when they face you. They're in for hell." Her voice, hinted with joy, easily showed her deep desire to see the shadow group dismantled.

"You really hate them, don't you?"

There wasn't any hesitation from _Eidheann_'s lips as curled her lip in a snarl. "As any mother would if they took her son and brainwashed him into a heartless killer."

Minerva did not hide the shock on her face. She tired to think of something to say, but anything else would have been a dishonor to what the older witch had gone through and soon they entered the Grand Hall where every specialist and leader was gathered, waiting for their captain to exit the lone door nearby. It was very quiet until the the door with a bit of a slam, causing a few warriors to jump.

"Get him out of my sight!" Galatea growled ferociously as she stormed out of the room with _Sgiath_ following close behind.

"Does he need medical attention?" _Eidheann _queried in a voice that suggested she knew what the answer would be.

The Nightingale Captain laughed coldly, sending a shiver down Minerva's spine. "Absolutely not! He'll probably be dead in ten minutes anyway after what I did to his mind."

The red haired witch nodded and left without a word, but Nathan remained, glaring at _Sgiath_ as _Abhainn_ quickly closed the door with a flick of his hand, sealing the traitor to his eventual fate.

"I thought yeh were supposed to_ prevent_ her from killing him!" the lavender-eyed wizard seethed.

"I did." _Sgiath_ shrugged nonchalant. "He isn't dead and we have the information we need."

"That's not the point!"

"Enough, both of you," Galatea snapped, her voice dangerously calm. "_Broc_, _Sgiath_ did his job as_ I_ instructed." She turned her head towards the white haired witch who was patiently waiting orders. "_Ath-sgal_ I need you to get in contact everyone _Dealg_ was in commanded and inform them that they are to come here immediately via Floo Powder and into the Fire Room. Do _not _tell them that there has been a change in leadership."

"And what will you do with them?"

"They are all innocent to this," the Captain waved her hand absently towards the room she just vacated, "but I need to make them aware that _Dealg_ is no longer their leader. If there is any problems with loyalty they need to be dealt with accordingly. Oh, and please open my office's Floo network then close it after one use."

"Yes, _Faol_."

It amazed Minerva that all of the members did exactly as they were told without questioning what their Captain had learned from the traitor. Her mentor didn't bother to watch _Ath-sgal_ leave as she immediately continued barking out orders.

"_Sgiath,_ _Abhainn, Paindeal,_ get me a list of candidates you feel could either take over your position, or fill _Dealg_'s."

_Saighead,_ toying with a steel arrow-shaped kunai, stepped forward bowing his head respectfully. "_Faol_, surely it would be wiser to choose from _his_ Lieutenants. If they are indeed all innocent then they'll want to have someone from their group to take over."

Galatea pursed her lips, but bobbed her head after a moment. "Very well then, _Saighead,_ you trained most of them, do you have a suggestion?"

"I do, _Dubhadh_ [Eclipse]. He's a damn good fighter and adamantly loyal."

The young witch watched her mentor as she considered all the angles. "I will think on it, but for now I want all the options as soon as possible. Now, _Losgann,_ _Broc,_ I want you two to visit _Dealg_'s wife. Make sure she knows that we will _not_ be harming her, or her son, for her husband's crime. Offer protection, anything, but just get her on our side. The last thing we need is her fleeing to the enemy!"

Both wizards nodded and left quickly for the Fire Room, leaving Galatea and Minerva in the silence of the big room. "_Dùil_, come with me."

The younger witch quickly followed her Professor, praying she would get some answers before being forced to return to Hogwarts.

"The traitor was _not _working with the Untergang," Galatea hissed venomously as they swiftly made their way to her office. "He was on his own and wanted to remove the threat to his only son. The only reason he attacked Helena was because she read his wife's letter."

The younger witch breathed a sigh of relief, Mikail obviously wasn't involved then. "That makes sense, I think she was trying to warn me about him before he attacked again."

"Oh Merlin, bless her." Her mentor let out an odd, almost grief stricken exhale and Minerva thought she saw a glimmer of tears again. "She probably knew he would win, maybe tried to send a Patronus to keep you safe instead of fight- and he got to her first..."

A flash of fear clouded the professor's eyes as they turned a corner and guilt once again stabbed the Gryffindor's heart. She knew Galatea was right. Helena tried to warn them, tried to keep Minerva safe, even at the cost of her ultimate secret being exposed- and to think that she had heard the matron's call, had felt the _need,_ the outcry for help -yet, only for it to be ignored as _nerves._

Before Minerva could wallow more in her guilt, she found herself walking into Galatea's seaside smelling room.

"No doubt you have realised I need you to go back to Hogwarts-"

"But couldn't we-"

The elder witch spun sharply on her heel, her eyes ablaze. "No arguments, _Dùil_."

"I'm not arguing, I just want to talk, please." Galatea's composure softened at her words and the younger witch swallowed, feeling the guilt once again rising. She flicked her hand, casting a silencing charm as she dropped her gaze. "I never told you that I... I _felt_ Helena dying. I was feeling her need for help and I ignored it. I thought it was nerves, so I just shoved it aside and... I failed her."

"Oh, my dear, you didn't fail anyone, least of all Helena!" The elder witch cupped the Gryffindor's cheek gently, only for Minerva to turn away as she finally gave into her emotions.

"She was so close, Galatea!" She felt like she should be crying, tears flowing freely down her cheeks, but of course, there were none. Not even when someone so dear to her had nearly died. "I could have prevented it, I could have protected her if I had just realised it was Avrenim trying to tell me that she was in danger!"

Minerva felt her guardian pulling her back into a loving, warm embrace and she couldn't help but give in to the comfort. She hardly realised that she was shaking until Galatea hushed her gently into silence.

"Let me tell you something, _leannan_ [sweetheart]. Everyone struggles with this sort of thing, thinking about _what-if's_ and regrets- myself included. But what you need to remember is that- in the end -what matters most is not what you _could_ have done, it is what you _did._ You kept Helena alive, _a chagair_ [my darling], kept her heart beating for those precious moments that were quite literally the difference between her life or death. _That_ is what truly matters."

Minerva sighed as her mentor kissed her forehead, her boots affording her the height to do so with very little effort. "Do you understand, child?"

The green-eyed witch nodded, she would at least try to.

"Good. Now, as much as I would like to come and check on you after all that has happened today, I highly doubt I will have have time to, so please, try to have a good night's rest. I will have Professor Dumbledore fetch you and Poppy tomorrow to see _Òran_ after she awakes."

"All right, I'll see you then." Minerva kissed the woman's cheek as she felt her hand squeezed. "I love you, Galatea."

"I love you too, child, so very much."

* * *

><p>As predicted, Galatea asked her to Floo to Dumbledore's office, and although she expected to see her Head of House, she did not expect to see Professor Slughorn sitting on the other side of Dumbledore's desk as well.<p>

"Ah, Miss McGonagall, you're back," Dumbledore greeted her, the twinkle in his eyes absent. "We were wondering when you'd return."

"Is Madam Nurix all right?" the Head of Slytherin asked sincerely. "We've received no word."

"She should be awake in twenty-four hours, although although that was nearly two hours ago, but yes, it seems she will recover." The witch knew her words were probably not very convincing, but she was so tired- physically and emotionally -that she hoped that they would see her exhaustion instead of her grievance worries.

Both wizards looked immensely relieved, despite the lack of in-depth explanation.

"Thank Merlin for that. I heard it was quite close," Professor Slughorn breathed looking curiously at the young Gryffindor.

"You have no idea." Minerva blinked a few times, trying to rid herself of the distressing images that flashed in her mind once more. "Forgive me, Professors, but I should be off."

She thought she saw a touch of sympathy and compassion from Professor Dumbledore's sapphire eyes, but she turned and left without another word. She didn't want to talk about it. She just wanted to start her pile of homework and forget this disaster had ever happened.

Discretely, she made her way to the Gryffindor common room. There was a few hours until curfew, but with her no doubt obvious absence today it was best to avoid questions. Thankfully, she managed to get back to the tower with very little fuss, however, the instant she reached her dormitory she found herself in a tight embrace with Rolanda.

"Don't you _dare_ scare me like that again!" the hawk-eyed witch scolded, refusing to let go. "Both of you had me so worried! I couldn't communicate with you, you were too far away!"

The dark haired witch offered a reassuring smile and hugged her sister back, all the while wishing she had cut her connections sooner. "It's okay, Rola, really. Everything's fine, now."

Rolanda scoffed. "Yeah right, one of the Nightingale leaders betrayed his order by nearly killing the Head Matron of Hogwarts all in an attempt to kill _you!"_

Augusta, who was sitting on her bed with Oscar in her lap, gasped, glaring at Poppy and Rolanda. "You didn't tell me he tried to kill Min too!"

Oblivious to events around him, Mico wandered towards his mistress and began to rub against her ankles lovingly. Minerva picked him up and gently rested the cat on her shoulder, taking comfort from his short tail brushing against her skin every now and then.

"It was nothing I could handle," she said evenly.

Poppy fidgeted with her hands. "What happened to the man that attacked Helena? Was he working with the Untergang? Is... Lutrov more of a risk again?"

"We can rule Lutrov out on this one. _Dealg_ was working solo, out to remove the threat to his son. He's probably dead by now." The dark haired witch walked over to her bed, letting Mico hop off.

"Then why did he attack Helena?" the apprentice asked.

"She read a letter from his wife that probably included his intentions to kill me." Minerva summoned her Transfiguration book to the bed and opened it, feeling her sister's unease at how blasé she was acting. "Is there anything else?"

Poppy and Rolanda looked at each other for a moment, before the hawk-eyed witch moved to her side. "Malcom was highly concerned about where you were."

She smile softly. "I'm not surprised."

"I- er, I had to tell him that you were with Merrythought and at St. Mungo's." Green eyes widened. "But I didn't tell him why you were with her in the first place. I told him to ask Professor Merrythought or you."

Rubbing her temples, Minerva bobbed her head. "He'd have gotten angry if you hadn't told him the truth. Thank you, Rola. Now, if at all possible, could we not speak about any of this for the remainder of the day? I'm getting a headache."

The others nodded and they too started up on their studies. Nightfall was met with silence, even as the girls drifted to sleep, but their minds were far from still. Minerva lay in her bed, listening to the girl's soft snores while keeping the precious, silver mirror in her hand. It meant more to her now than ever, knowing how much it must have meant to Galatea. For the elder witch to give it to her, especially during a time when their relationship was still in the works, made her smile.

It had taken the woman over ten years to get over her parent's death, ten years to let light back into her life. Even Helena had mentioned that the woman's first few years at Hogwarts were some of her darkest, and Minerva had no trouble imagining why. She wondered if the witch or wizard that had murdered the Merrythoughts was still alive, whether they were still out there- but she highly doubted it though. It had been nearly fifty years since their deaths, surely the person responsible had been caught and punished long ago by the formidable ex-Auror if tonight was anything to go by. She sighed as she rolled over, closing her eyes and clutching the mirror to her chest.

Surely.

* * *

><p><strong>Next time: A bit of tension stirs when a stranger visits Helena, and Minerva finishes her last Occlumency lesson with Dumbledore.<strong>

**~LinK  
><strong>


	35. Reflecting part I

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

~By Your Side, Tenth Avenue North

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**~Er... by "next time" **I should have meant "next chapter" and chapter meaning the _whole_ chapter. I didn't realise until I started writing it that I needed to add more sections than I thought I did before the reviews came in and got me thinking on a few things ;)

**~For those who didn't watch the Emmys last night: **Maggie Smith won the Best Supporting Actress In A Drama award for Downton Abbey! :D

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 31 - Reflecting, Part I<strong>

**November 14th, 1942:**

She was running somewhere in a thick, dark forest, towards the banshee mauling Rolanda. Her wand flickered, sending a fiery blast that killed the monster. She rushed to her sister's side, but there was no movement from the hawk-eyed witch. She wasn't breathing. Minerva choked back a sob as she grabbed Rolanda's wrist, checking for a pulse, but there was no beat to be felt. Her sister was dead. Tears were in her eyes, but she could not feel them as they rolled down her face and dripped onto the ground below.

Before she knew it, she was running again, this time through the corridors of Hogwarts and towards the Transfiguration Department and Professor Dumbledore's classroom, noticing with horror that the door was ajar and the classroom mysteriously empty. Minerva looked around frantically for both professors and it felt like an age before she caught sight of them in the courtyard, with Galatea bleeding from multiple wounds all over her body.

Helena suddenly appeared alongside the elder witch, holding her close as tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked up at Minerva, her heartbroken grey eyes telling the young witch everything her heart seemed to already know.

"_She didn't get to tell you..."_ the matron managed to whisper before breaking off with a quiet sob as Minerva took Galatea from her. Yet it wasn't her mentor that she looked down at this time; it was Helena, and they were in the Nightingale Headquarters Owlery alone. No-one burst through the door, no-one screamed, no-one spoke in hushed Gaelic words as she watched the life drift from the beloved woman in her arms and moisture once again leaked from her eyes that she could not feel. She closed them, letting the darkness and loneliness surround her.

"_Minerva? Minnie? Darling, where are you?" _Her mother's voice rang through her ears. Minerva's eyes snapped back open; she was a little girl again, in her room at the Manor. Isobel was near the door with an oddly calm and sincere expression.

"_Come, darling," _she said with a smile._ "Let's go for a walk..."_

Her hand stretched out beckoning her to come forth, yet before Minerva could reach her, a seething voice echoed in her ears and the scene faded.

"_Do - not - start - __**that **__- with - me! You know bloody well that... A-Avrenim?"_

Minerva awoke, her green eyes wide in horror, her heart thumping loudly. That last voice had been Galatea's, she was sure of it, although it sounded different than the voices in her dreams. It was louder and much clearer. She only caught a quick glimpse of Mico opening his eyes before the vivid dream-like sequence engulfed her once more.

_She didn't know what was calling her. It felt like a combination of several things and they were all tied together with an event that was occurring, or was about to. __She seemed to be drawn to whatever was happening, that it was something she needed to witness.__ With Minerva's wand in hand, the astral quickly rushed down the stairs, out of the portrait hole and carefully made her way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. She charmed the door open and began to step inside when she heard Galatea's voice from within either her personal rooms or office._

"_... doing here, Isobel?"_

"_That depends. Why do you think I am here?"_ _Minerva's mother responded dryly, causing Avrenim to shudder._

_Galatea countered with similar coldness. "It is not on behalf of Helena's well being, of that I am sure."_

_Isobel huffed. "I __**am **__glad she's alive." Yet, Avrenim noted that she didn't sound like it. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Galatea. I know you that would never truly recover if she died."_

_There was an acute, awkward silence that made the astral step a little closer to the door, wondering if she had missed something, before the professor spoke again._

"_You did not come here to express false affection. Get to the point." Despite her tone being severe, a deep melancholy lingered._

"_Who says it_'_s false?"_

"Tog dheth _[Stop it]!"_ _Galatea hissed, all previous sorrow clearly gone. "I do not have time to dance around your reasons for being here! State your point, or leave!"_

_There was no hesitation, nor did there seem to be any recognition of the professor's anger in Isobel's reply. "Where was __**my daughter**__ for the five hours she was missing?"_

"_For two hours, Minerva was with Miss Pomfrey and I at the infirmary. Her friend requested her presence while waiting for the news of her mentor. She did not want to be alone if the worse happened," Galatea growled as if the pain was tearing at her heart. "As for the other three, what makes you think I know?" she asked cynically. "I am busy keeping the Untergang from inflicting their terror upon Britain, I do not have time to keep track of where __**your girl**__ has been! So if that's all, then take your leave!"_

_Isobel hesitated before speaking, her voice unchanged. "You're talking as if we never meant anything."_

"_Is that not what you want, though?" Galatea's voice shook with outrage. "For me to pretend that __**everything**__ you once meant to me, and all that I did for you, was for naught? That all three of your children mean __**nothing**__ to me?" Her voice cracked. "What __**else **__do you want from me, Izzy? __**What else can you possibly want?**__"_

_The astral heard footsteps heading in her direction before they stopped and she leaned forward just a little more so she could hear the quiet words that were exchanged._

"_I want you to stay away from my daughter and stop pretending that you can have everything you want," Isobel stated with a sickening amount of ease, "because you and I both know that's never __going to happen."_

"_And what makes you think I am not doing that?" the professor glowered._

"_I am under the... __**impression **__that she wants to spend time with you, especially after I received a letter saying that she's not __coming to the Manor over the holidays." A shiver shot up Avrenim's spine at the tone Isobel was using- it was etched with a coldness that she had only heard from Tradisi._

"_Do - not - start - __**that **__- with - me!" Galatea seethed, her voice trembling with each word so fiercely that it tugged at Avrenim, and before the astral knew what she was doing, she had opened the door. "You know bloody well __that-!"_

_Both witch's heads turned, but before they could get a good glimpse of the intruder, she faded. Yet the professor's voice still rang clear as the sound of Minerva's wand hitting the floor reverberated through her ears._

"_A-Avrenim?"_

Despite the pounding headache that greeted her, the green-eyed witch sat up quickly, scrambling around her nightstand for one item in particular, but her suspicion was proven correct. Her wand was gone.

"Oh no..." Minerva whispered, as a feeling of dread came over her. Her mother visiting Galatea was bad enough, not just because Avrenim's presence had possibly alerted Isobel to the fact that Minerva had a personal relationship with the professor, but also because it would create more trouble for her guardian. The elder witch had already been through so much as of late.

She wasn't sure what to do; leaving the dormitory to be with Galatea would undoubtedly cause more of a scandal in Isobel's eyes and worsen the situation, but on the other hand, if she didn't it would leave her mentor to fend for herself. She decided that- in the end -it would be best to not stir up any more trouble, however, she'd be damned if she didn't at least send her a quick message of support.

The witch grabbed her mirror and sent a long, steady pulse, praying that her mentor would understand. She hoped that Avrenim hadn't scared Galatea into thinking she was in danger, and that this would remedy it. There was nothing else she could do for the time being.

Minerva shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She didn't want to think about her mother, it just led her mind back to the dream; her dead sister, guardian, and healer, then her mother trying coax her to take a walk she knew that she wouldn't come back from.

Silently, the witch removed the covers and walked over to the window, flicking her hand to let the cold breeze air her skin. She removed the ribbon that tied her long, braided hair together and floated it into her palm as she breathed in, closed her troubled green-eyes, and prayed to whatever higher power that would listen. Her gut was telling her that this latest issue was going to complicate things, and by Merlin, she didn't know if she could handle it all.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed there absentmindedly. Her fingers hurt from the bitter chill but she didn't take any notice. Rolanda, however, seemed to, the hawk-eyed girl had woken from the cold, grabbed her dressing gown and put it on as she re-covered the two other girls, not wanting them to wake as well. She was about to go to Minerva's bed, when she realized the dark haired witch was at the window sill.

"Min, what are you doing?" Rolanda queried in a near whisper. "Close that, you'll catch a chill."

Minerva spelled the window shut with her hand, but didn't move. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

The hawk-eyed witch frowned, then walked up behind her sister and wrapped her in an embrace. "Merlin's beard, you're freezing."

"It doesn't bother me." Green eyes stayed transfixed through the window, causing Rolanda to frown. Their connection wasn't cut off, but there were no thoughts or feelings flowing from Minerva. It always amazed her how her sister could do that so well. She never could, not with her hyperactive mind.

She gave the dark haired witch a squeeze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just needed some air," Minerva said, less impassively than before. "Go back to sleep. It's past midnight."

Rolanda didn't believe her for a second. She hated it when Minerva tried to play the big sister to keep others from worrying. The hawk-eyed witch released her hold for a moment, her arms only receding to Minerva's shoulders, then turning her around. "Nice try, Min."

A sad silence came between them as the dark haired witch kept her eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. She muttered a silencing charm to prevent the other two from waking.

"I had a nightmare. I was too late to save everyone; you, Galatea, and Helena. You all died, and I... I had _tears_ in my eyes." Minerva let out a shaky, somber laugh as Rolanda's eyes softened tremendously. "It's so ridiculous that I think of that, that I focus on tears being an issue- what with the Untergang, the Chamber monster at large and people around me almost dying. I keep wanting to ask Galatea about it, but there never seems to be a right moment."

Rolanda grasped her sister's hands. "It's _not_ ridiculous. You have every right to be concerned about it! It should be a natural thing that you're able to do, but you cannot. Merlin, it has _me_ worried sometimes."

Minerva bobbed her head.

"But that's not all," she continued. "I woke up hearing Galatea berate my màthair."

"_What?"_ Rolanda nearly yelled in surprised. "She was _here?_"

"She probably still is after seeing a hazy Avrenim. Màthair was trying to find out where I had been and intimidating Galatea into staying away from me. Avrenim was compelled to open the door, but as soon as she did I woke up and then she returned to me, leaving my wand behind."

The hawk-eyed witch frowned. She wasn't very worried about Minerva's wand, her sister could fight without it if something happened, she was more concerned about what Isobel made of Avrenim walking in on them.

"What do you think your mum will do?"

Minerva shrugged and leaned against the chilled glass. "I don't know. Maybe Galatea will be able to convince her it was something else, but I doubt it. Màthair's already suspicious enough as it is because I'm not returning to the Manor over Christmas." The green-eyed witch shivered. "Merlin's beard, Rola, she was so _cold_ and uncaring to Galatea! She didn't even _try_ to act sympathetic towards the fact that Helena almost _died!"_

Minerva covered her mouth with a shaky hand as her breathing quickened with emotion. She leaned into Rolanda once again.

"I don't know who my màthair is anymore. She may have never been a very warm hearted woman, but she _never_ acted so hateful to anyone before I came to Hogwarts and she _never_ raised me to act like that! I can handle her hating me, but when she acts so sinister towards Galatea, I... I don't know who she is!"

Her sister didn't know either. She didn't understand what it took to have the kind of hate that Mrs McGonagall tended to have for those that got in the way of her scheming, especially to those that had loved her.

* * *

><p>It was early in the morning, not even the crack of dawn, and yet, Poppy Pomfrey found herself wide awake with the events of yesterday still gnawing at her. She tried to ignore them and go back to sleep, but they kept her awake. One issue in particular was Mikail. While Minerva had returned to the Nightingales' Headquarters, the Russian had asked where she was, and although he hadn't specified why, he seemed a bit elusive. She and Rolanda couldn't decide if it had been due to Minerva being gone for nearly five hours, or if he had something to inform her about the memories, making the two sisters curious as to his intentions. They agreed to keep it hidden from Minerva though- if only because far too much had already happened. Poppy felt a bit guilty, but if it helped keep her sister's head above water, then it was worth it.<p>

The witch sighed as she got out of bed. She dressed quickly and quietly, then left for the common room without waking anyone. The sound of the last embers of the crackling fire caught her attention as she came down the last few stairs.

_Surely the elves aren't keeping the fires burning all the time just yet..._ Poppy reached for her wand before entering the room, but no-one was present. Pocketing it again with pursed lips, she walked over to the fireplace. As her hazel eyes scanned the area for any signs of recent disturbance, a green sparkle caught her attention. She bent down and picked up the substance to examine it. Sure enough, it was Floo powder and it must have been used recently- the elves made sure all of the common rooms were spotless overnight.

Poppy clenched her fist, letting the emerald dust drift slowly back to the floor through the cracks of her palm. Her gut was telling her it was Mikail, but her heart was praying it wasn't- or if so, that it was for a good reason. The witch shook her head, not wanting to think about that particular wizard. He shouldn't be on her mind like he was, she had to keep her distance, had to keep Minerva safe. Yet, even that was becoming bleak. She was so powerless against all this, unable to do anything helpful.

Sitting down heavily, she closed her eyes, letting the heat and sounds of the fire relax her. She tried to remember when she was little, how she would sit curled up between her parents by the fire, when the world was at peace, but her thoughts soon turned to Helena. She _never_ wanted to feel as helpless and lost again as she had while waiting to hear if her mentor was alive. Tears leaked from her tired eyes, and she thought that would be all, but then her throat closed and it became hard to breathe.

"Poppy?"

She froze. Poppy knew who that voice belonged to. The same voice that seemed to plague her every thought. Mikail. She wanted to curse. She wanted to scream at the wizard calling her name for making everything so bloody confusing and tense. Yet it was odd. Despite all her anger towards him, she yearned for him to continue.

"Poppy, are you all right?" Mikail asked again. The witch heard him walk towards her, but she kept her eyes on the fire.

"What makes you think I'm not?" She nearly cringed at how hoarse she sounded.

"Vell, for starters your voice, and then your tears." His naturally deep, sensual baritone was making her heart flutter. Her limbs stiffened as Poppy tried to keep herself in check.

She clicked her tongue. "Then I should rephrase; why do you care? You don't know me, Lutrov, and I haven't been exactly kind to you. I've even threatened you."

"Does that mean I should not have compassion then?" Mikail queried. "It is obvious to me that you're hurting."

The witch huffed. "That's rich, coming from_ you._"

"Vhat have I done? I am just speaking the truth." He didn't raise his voice, or get angry with her for continuing to mistrust him, and Poppy found herself relaxing without realizing it. She felt bad for doing this to him-_ if_ he was innocent. It suddenly made her realise that Mikail really _hadn't_ done anything for her to hate him. She didn't _have_ to hate him, did she?

Shaking her head, Poppy stood up to leave. "Nothing. You've done nothing."

"Vait, please." He grabbed her hand, and despite everything telling her to pull away, Poppy didn't. Instead, she stopped in her tracks. It surprised her how soft his hand was, nothing like she had imagined. She reasoned that she should feel scared or intimidated, yet, there was none of that. Maybe it was the lack of sleep and the emotional stress of yesterday affecting her judgement, but part of her just didn't want him to let go.

"Do you think I am a member of the Untergang?"

Poppy spun around, gazing into his beautiful tawny eyes as her left hand secretly began reaching for her wand. "I beg your pardon?"

"I am not an idiot, Poppy; there _has_ to be a reason for your hate and distrust of me." His voice was calm. "Do you think I am a member of the Untergang, or not?"

She watched as Mikail released her hand slowly, causing a blush to rise in her cheeks, but her fear for Minerva's life kept her mind steady and untouched from his attempt to soften her.

"You've been talking to _them_, haven't you?" Poppy's hand clasped her wand within her pocket, as she voiced her suspicions with a hint of venom in her voice. "Using the Floo to contact your _friends."_

Mikail blinked, continuing to remain inexplicably unconcerned. "Not for the reason you think."

She had her wand out, pointed at him, ready to stun him and protect her sister at all costs. "Then tell me, Lutrov, _what - other - reason - could - there - be?"_

* * *

><p>The morning was an odd one, to say the least. Minerva had awoken, again, before anyone else had- or so she thought before glancing at Poppy's empty bed. She tried their connection but it was blocked off, so she quickly got dressed and hurried down to the common room, only to find the apprentice on the couch, reading a book.<p>

"How long have you been up?" Minerva asked, sitting down next to her.

Poppy glanced up. "Hmm? Sorry, what'd you say?"

The dark haired witch chuckled. "How long have you been awake?"

Her sister's eyes flickered to the fire, her expression blank. "Two hours."

Minerva frowned. "Did you have a nightmare too?"

"No," Poppy answered plainly. "I just couldn't go back to sleep. I kept thinking about Helena."

"I understand." The dark haired witch gently rested her hand on Poppy's shoulder for a moment. "If anyone asks, I'm off to see if I can find Galatea. I need to get my wand back."

The apprentice didn't entirely respond, her thoughts apparently elsewhere. However, the minute she felt her sister's hand begin to leave, she grabbed hold of it tightly.

"Wait, what? Minerva, you had your wand when you came back last night."

"You're right, I did. It's a bit of a long story, but I need to go if I have any hopes of catching Galatea before she leaves the castle. Rola can fill you in when she wakes up." Minerva narrowed her eyes. "Are you all right?"

Poppy nodded, but her eyes had already drifted back to the fireplace. "I'll be fine."

The dark haired witch didn't believe her for a second, but she was pressed for time and would just have to deal with it later. She needed her wand, but most of all, she needed to talk with Galatea and see how the elder witch was faring after such a stressful night.

* * *

><p>When Minerva reached Professor Merrythought's office, Sir Knight Morrison let her in immediately without question.<p>

"Very glad yeh came, m'dear, just in time too!" he muttered as the door opened, revealing Galatea coming through her personal rooms, fully dressed ready to go out. She looked tired. More than tired really, a bit frail.

"Oh good, you are here," Galatea smiled softly. "I thought you might not come before I left and I would have to give your wand to Professor Dumbledore."

Minerva smiled sadly as she embraced the elder witch. "I am so sorry Avrenim caused you trouble last night. I don't know how to stop-"

"You cannot," Galatea interrupted her. "Astrals are meant to defend and serve you while you are unable to." The professor kissed her forehead. "Truth be told, I am a little surprised you did not come last night after you woke up."

"I _wanted_ to, but I didn't think it would be a good idea, it would have made things worse."

Galatea nodded, her pale blue eyes becoming distant. "Yes, it probably would have. Much worse. But I would have supported you through it all, I hope you know that."

"You wouldn't have been mad?"

"No. It is your life, Minerva, and who am I to judge what you are going through. I will _always_ support you in the decisions you make," she smirked. "Provided that they have _some_ rationality to them, that is."

Minerva chuckled softly, and not just to hide her thoughts. She hoped Galatea would think the same in regards to her memories. She released the elder witch, who then pulled out the long fir wand from her pocket and handed it back to its owner. Immediately, Minerva felt a surge of magic pulse through her, almost as if her wand was glad to be back.

"Now, I am sorry, darling, but I _must_ cut this short. We can talk more about all this tomorrow when I will have more time, but just know that your màthair still does not entirely know of _us,_ despite what she may think."

"A-All right," Minerva tried to hide her surprise and curiosity; she didn't want to keep the elder witch waiting with her questions.

Galatea brushed her hand softly across her cheek, obviously catching the inquisitive gleam before it was hidden. "I promise, I will explain more later."

Minerva took her mentor's hand and clasped it. "I believe you."

She looked up, seeing Galatea's pale blue eyes sparkle.

"Merlin, you are a dear," the elder witch whispered, smiling as she did, then began walking with Minerva on her way out. "I will see you later, darling. Professor Dumbledore should come for you and Poppy around four or five, depending on how Helena feels when she wakes."

The mere thought of St. Mungo's triggered the Gryffindor to remember what Rolanda had told her about Malcom. "Oh, I should probably tell you before he gets the chance to ask; Rola had to tell Malcom that I was with you at St. Mungo's. She didn't tell him about our relationship, but- well, I thought you should know."

Galatea stared at her for a moment, her eyes seeming to lighting up even more. "Have all three of you connected then?" When Minerva nodded, her mentor broke into a grin. "That is such _wonderful_ news! I have been waiting for you all to do that for _years_."

"You knew we weren't?"

"Yes, I have observed that you act differently around those you have not made a mental connection with, regardless of how close you seem to be; like with Miss Sprout and Miss Louise. Now, if Malcom starts questioning you, inform him of the story that I gave your mother, but tell him to talk to me as well, I will tell him what he needs to know," Galatea explained quickly. "I really must go. Please, try to relax and not worry."

As the door closed, both women sighed behind it. Trying to tell either of them not to worry was absurd.

* * *

><p>Kevin, as usual, managed to snag a copy of the <em>Daily Prophet<em> from Professor Slughorn's office. The young wizard had been making it a habit of late to keep updated with the world. He tended to make a few copies and hand them out every morning, much to a few professors dislike, but they never did anything about it.

This issue, however, had Minerva scouring through the pages for any mention of Helena being admitted to St. Mungo's. She was so engrossed she forgot to eat her breakfast, until Rolanda pointed it out as she leaned over her shoulder to read along. The hawk-eyed witch mused that maybe the _Prophet_ was keeping silent about Helena's attack to prevent panic over the happenings at Hogwarts. Such a harrowing event that rendered the Head Matron absent from Hogwarts for an extended period of time while the Chamber's Monster was still aloof would undoubtedly be the final straw for the Headmaster. If the parents panicked, then the Governors would have no choice but to remove Professor Dippet, thereby losing their puppet and control over Hogwarts. Minerva found she had to agree.

While this was good news, it didn't seem to entirely pull Poppy from her thoughts. She continued to keep her connection shut off from the girls and couldn't focus on what was happening around her. It had both of her sisters worried. Minerva tried to reassure Rolanda that it was probably about Helena, but the hawk-eyed witch wasn't convinced.

Mikail, not unusually, sat away from Poppy. No glances were made between them, nor comments passed. It didn't aggravate the group as much anymore, although that could have been because the hatred _appeared _to have drifted away over the past few weeks. Yet, Minerva and Rolanda both caught Poppy's swallow and hitch of breath as he passed by her, causing both sisters to share a brief look of confusion.

By lunch, Pomona was caught up on all the events, and even thought of the brilliant idea to make the Head Matron a bouquet. The activity grabbed Poppy's focus, much to Rolanda's suspicion and Minerva's relief. Neither could decide between roses and lilies, which resulted in them making two separate arrangements. Minerva Transfigured them into coins to keep them from suspicious eyes and getting damaged by the Floo.

In an effort to keep Poppy from drowning in her thoughts again, Rolanda insisted on them writing a get well letter to the Head Matron, but it didn't take Poppy's mind off things for long. Finally, the hawk-eyed witch convinced her to go on a walk around the castle, leaving Minerva to catch up with some much needed studying.

The apprentice stayed quiet the entire time, keeping her eyes low and connection sealed off. It hurt Rolanda deeply that her sister wasn't expressing her turmoil and letting her in.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked gently as they came to a secluded corridor.

"Nothing, I'm just trying to process everything." Poppy's eyes dodged Rolanda's golden ones as she pushed back a stray lock of russet hair.

"About?" the hawk-eyed witch pressed.

The apprentice's expression became more solemn and she hesitated before speaking, "Helena being alive and Minerva against the Untergang."

"Then why keep us shut out? You don't have to go through this alone."

Poppy narrowed her eyes and backed away. "Well, forgive me for trying not to ruin your day."

"You won't ruin-" Rolanda began, but the apprentice was gone, fleeing from confrontation of her thoughts and troubles, or at least trying to. The hawk-eyed witch sniffed, trying to hold back the pang in her heart. This wasn't an easy time for her either, and it only made things worse when her sisters didn't talk about their emotional turmoil with her.

"Damn it, Poppy," she cursed with a somber whisper. It seemed that every time the apprentice would come back to her former, happy self, something new would happen and mess things up again. She hated not being able to talk with Poppy like they used to. They were friends and self proclaimed sisters since before they could even remember, yet that wasn't enough it seemed.

She spotted Mikail at the far end of the corridor, turning the corner and almost running straight into Poppy. He looked sympathetic, sad even, but he didn't stop her, or say anything. The wizard simply looked at Poppy, then to Rolanda, before leaving upstairs.

Rolanda's expression soured. Maybe she was just looking for a reason for Poppy's extreme reactions, but she began to wonder if something had happened between the two of them- something that had shaken Poppy to the point of mistrusting even those closest to her. She couldn't figure out what it could be though.

She needed a broom ride.

* * *

><p>Minerva had been well aware that Malcom was watching her, obviously debating when and how to approach his sister, but it was when she was alone in the Great Hall working on her studies that he finally sat down beside her.<p>

"Can we talk?" he asked, more bluntly than she would have liked. Minerva turned towards him, muttering a silencing charm under her breath.

"First, let me say that I'm sorry I didn't cut the connection before my emotions became so heavy," she said sincerely. "I didn't even think about it when the time came. Next time, if something happens, I'll be more mindful."

Malcom's eyes narrowed. "What exactly _did_ happen?"

"Madam Nurix was attacked. She sustained a critical injury and was transferred to St. Mungo's, word was sent to Poppy about her condition and she wanted me to be with her while waiting at the hospital, so I did."

She wasn't surprised by the answer her brother gave her, "You're lying."

Minerva did not deny it, instead she nodded her head and smiled softly. "Not entirely, but yes. I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you the whole truth of what happened. Only Professor Merrythought can do that."

"But-" frustration boiled in his eyes. She had to commend him for not losing his temper. "Rolanda said that _you_ could tell me why you were with Merrythought. I got the feeling it wasn't just because of Madam Nurix."

The witch hid her smile, not that she really needed to. She might have been hiding her thoughts from him, but she wasn't withholding her emotions. "Professor Merrythought- _Galatea_ and I have grown close. She is mentoring me; helping me to become an Auror."

Her brother frowned and leaned away from her. She could feel the mistrust swirling in his mind. "Why hide it though?"

"Because Màthair would be _furious_ if she found out. Papa's not the only one who doesn't want me to go into the Aurors; to get involved in the war. Not only that, but Màthair despises Galatea."

"_What?_ Why?"

"I don't know," Minerva answered, letting the her love for her mentor affect her tone. "What I do know is that Màthair's manipulation isn't just limited to you and I. It has affected nearly everyone she's ever known, I think. Galatea and Màthair used to be rather close, but something happened between them and Màthair has continued to hurt the woman since then. Galatea cares _a lot _about all three of us, she's been watching over us since we came here."

"I... I wondered if Professor Merrythought knew us more than just as students before," her brother confessed. "The night Fang attacked you, she seemed very worried." He swallowed. "There was a look in her eyes that I've only seen a few times from Màthair. I see it more from Papa lately, but-"

"It was love, Malcom. She loves us all, no matter how strict and cold she may seem to be as a professor."

Malcom frowned and Minerva felt a pang of hurt in his chest begin to grow. "Then why hasn't she said something to me?"

"Oh, Malcom... I..." she took his hand, squeezing gently as he tried to pull away. Minerva had never asked her mentor why she had remained distant from her brothers, but when she thought about the woman's scenario, a part of her understood.

"Please, try to see it from her perspective," she pleaded softly. "Galatea knows you, she knows who you are and wants to be close to you but _you_ don't know her. The only side of her you've really seen is of her as a professor. On top of that, you were a little closer to Màthair than I was, even got letters from her every now and then. Galatea probably worried that if she tried to get closer to you than that of student and teacher you could get caught in the middle of something that could turn very ugly." She felt his hurt feelings begin to soften as his eyes wavered down to their hands. "So, she kept to the side lines, has watched you from afar and has probably resigned herself to be there to protect you when you need her, nothing more for fear of hurting you."

She paused to let Malcom speak, but he stayed silent, no doubt trying to rationalize all he had heard.

"Talk to her in a day or two, Malcom, please. She wants you to and she'll be able to tell you more than I can."

Finally, his green eyes looked up at her.

"All right," he muttered, then got up to leave.

Minerva bit her lip before calling out and waited for him to face her again before speaking again. "It's just... Galatea's been through a lot lately. Please, try not to upset her."

Her brother merely nodded, his eyes still carried a hint of melancholy, before he walked away. The witch sighed, pulling herself together as she saw Poppy walking towards her. To her disappointment, her sister didn't look any better than before. Minerva inwardly groaned, suspecting a that a fight had occurred..

"What happened?" she asked wearily.

"Rola's frustrated." The apprentice sat down and conjured a book, but she didn't turn the pages. "I am sorry that I'm keeping you two cut off, I... I'm just..."

Minerva smiled sadly and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. "It's all right. You're just trying to deal with all this, and I can understand you not wanting our connection bothering each other, especially after what happened yesterday."

"Thanks." She flashed an appreciative glance at her, then opened her book.

"If you ever need to talk, however..." Minerva began, but clamped her mouth shut when she saw Poppy's look sour.

"I know," her sister said softly before falling silent. It was not an uncomfortable or awkward silence, but as they continued on with their work they were disturbed by Mikail, who came to their table bearing a scroll. The wizard sat opposite of the witches and Minerva noted his brown eyes flickering towards Poppy for a moment before he concentrated once more on her.

"If you have a few moments, I vould like to talk to you about your memories," he said.

The green-eyed witch closed her Herbology book and set it aside. She had been anxiously waiting for him to get back to her with some answers now that they had completely mapped her memories. "All right, what have you got?"

The Russian wizard cleared his throat as he rolled out the parchment in his hands. "Not much at this point, I am afraid. I am still researching how to effectively recover the tampered adaquels. However, I have some details you might be interested in."

Minerva quickly conjured a notebook, quill and some ink as he continued speaking. He pointed at the first gap in the long cylindrical line of her memory stream.

"This first one took place in December, 1927. It contains some deletion _and_ vas also tampered vith, but vhat I did not recognize at first vas that it contained _two_ signatures. You believed it vas your mother that tampered vith most of your memories, yes?" Minerva nodded and he continued. "Very vell, your mother's signature is almost hidden by a different signature. I varn you, I do not think it is very likely that I vill _ever _recover this. It is _very_ fragile and vigorously t_v_isted. Part of it vas also recently unsuppressed, I assume you know about this?"

"Yes, that's how I found out about the tampering in the first place."

"I figured as such," Mikail muttered, then focused once more. "The second is tampered vith only slightly and takes place about October 1928. The memory I brought out of suppression for you dates about a month after the previous one, and is your third adaquel. Now, the fourth..." sensing his hesitation, Minerva glanced up, "all but barely a few minutes are suppressed before the erasing began. As for your sixth-"

"You mean fifth," the witch gently interjected.

"No, sixth. I vill get to the fifth at the end." His eyes darkened for a moment, but with a blink it was gone, causing a bit of unease in Minerva's stomach, and Poppy, who was no doubt selectively listening, shifted in her seat. "The sixth adaquel must have happened anytime bet_v_een a few days to a veek after your fifth. There _may_ be some suppression before or after, but I vould not bet on it. The next is better news, the seventh adaquel is only suppressed. It happened around April, 1930."

He paused, looking down at his own notes and letting Minerva catch up.

"However, your eighth is another disappointment- it occurred in January 1933 and vas erased soon after. Your very last tampering is the one I mentioned about being erased by medical means and a _v_and. It is set in either late August, or early September of 1940, and vas also completely erased- maybe even vorse than the others."

"Wait," Poppy spoke up, putting her book down, "medical _and_ wand from 1940?" She glanced at her sister. "Min..."

"I know, Poppy." Minerva covered the apprentice's hand with her own. "I have already thought of that."

Mikail raised a brow. "I take it you know vhat happened?"

"Not entirely," the dark haired witch's tone was edged with bitterness. "I had a medical..._ emergency,_ you might say. But as for what happened, I am unaware of just about everything except for the fact that my màthair was present." Minerva finished scribbling a note on the parchment, then looked up at Mikail again. "Tell me about the fifth."

The wizard frowned, but didn't protest. "It contains the second signature that differs from your mother's. There are sporadic holes here and there, however, that is not vhat I find concerning. It takes place around late July of 1929, but the adaquel is _seven days_ long and it seems the whole thing has been gradually suppressed over a period of four days rather than all at once." Mikail's voice softened. "Whoever did this made sure you did not experience a time lapse and they tried to make the events act like short-term memory, vhich vould seemingly disappear vith time. They vere very delicate vith the process, unlike most of vhat your mother did, vhich leads me to the theory that they care about you and did not vant to erase everything." He spelled the scroll to roll closed. "I hope that helps in discovering out who did it."

Minerva, lost in thought, did not recognize Professor Dumbledore walking towards them. Poppy thankfully did and quickly dispelled the silencing charm before he got too close.

"Miss McGonagall, Miss Pomfrey, could I see you two in my office?"

"Yes, Professor, we'll be right there," Poppy said, already getting up. Her hazel eyes were no longer clouded, as she squeezed Minerva's shoulder. "Come on, Min."

The green-eyed witch shook her head, snapping out of her thoughts, then muttered her thanks to Mikail and followed her sister and Professor Dumbledore out of the Great Hall. She was certain, now more than ever, that Galatea or Helena had been the one to tamper with her memories. However, Mikail's findings only resulted in a few more questions now lingering in her mind.

What in Merlin's name had happened to her at nearly four years of age and spanned for seven days, that had to be forgotten; what happened during her overload; why did Isobel go back over what Tradisi had done in her first memory; and lastly, why would her mother only erase a few things, but not all of them?

If she was being honest, not a whole lot was making sense in her head at the present moment.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed!<br>~LinK**


	36. Reflecting part II

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

~By Your Side, Tenth Avenue North

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><p><strong>AN:**

~Thank you Em and Spin for putting up with my late night/early morning nonsense. You're the best ;)

~I oddly have certain fowl thank for helping me finish this. This chapter gave me a hard time and I'm not entirely sure why. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 31 - Reflecting, Part II <strong>

**November 14th (continued):**

Returning to St. Mungo's was strange, though when Poppy put it into perspective, she was very glad not to have those same harrowing thoughts of death and dying swirling around her mind as she walked through the same halls as the day before. This time, however, her thoughts were not solely focused on her mentor, but rather her dark haired sister. Minerva had barely said a word to Professor Dumbledore before they Flooed to the Hospital, and for the umpteenth time today, Poppy found herself cursing Mikail for his timing of telling her the 'truth'. She still didn't know if she could believe his words. It was far too risky- but at the same time, if the Russian's reasons were true, then the risk was doubled for Mikail if anyone else realised what he was doing. Due to this, Poppy only had one choice; keep her thoughts sealed off from her sisters until she was able to limit how much she pondered the subject.

She chewed on her lip, trying to stop where her thoughts were wandering to. She couldn't afford to think of what Mikail had done this early morning in the Gryffindor common room- what he said and did that still had her flustered and brought a blush to her cheeks. She needed to concentrate on what was happening now, especially since they were going to see Helena. If she didn't banish it from her mind now, it would no doubt lead to questions that would get her into trouble.

She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present, one where Minerva was still silently musing over the new details of her lost memories, as they walked through the maze of St. Mungo's. Personally, Poppy was more disturbed as of why Mrs McGonagall had bothered to erase Minerva's memory when her overload would have blocked it anyway. Even the hospital's healers had sent a report stating that there would be memory loss-

Poppy stopped in her tracks. "Wait a minute..." She grabbed Minerva's arm, effectively halting her.

"Poppy?"

"I've got an idea, it won't take long, provided that we can find the place without much trouble, but since we're here, we should do it anyway- probably after we see Helena though, don't want them to worry-"

"The point, Poppy," Minerva interrupted, bemusement shining in her eyes, "get to the point. What is your idea?"

"You're of age, which means you can access your medical records at St. Mungo's. You need information, and they have it! It may, or may not, be of much use, but wouldn't it at least be worth a try?"

Minerva blinked a few times before a smile curved her lips. "Yes, yes you're right, and furthermore, Màthair won't know that I've accessed it- but we really should see Helena first."

Poppy smiled all the way to the private recovery suites set aside for patients staying for a week or more, and for once Mikail didn't plague her thoughts. As they drew near to their destination, Minerva took out one of the transfigured coins in her pocket and flipped it off her thumb, but instead of cold metal landing in her open palm, it was a bouquet of pale coloured roses. She gave it to Poppy, then did the same to the lilies, just in time for Galatea to appear in the corridor and wave them to come closer.

"I am glad you two could come." The professor smiled with tired, but sparkling crystal eyes. "The flowers are lovely, I am sure she will be very happy to see them. Could you set them on the table near the window? I will be sure to show them to her when she is feeling better."

They stepped inside the doorway which led into a small room with a few chairs, sofa, table and a large glass window that provided a view into the room which Helena resided.

"How is she?" Poppy asked, nearing the window and peering into the room as Minerva carefully arranged the flowers in a conjured vase.

"She is physically exhausted and gets tired very easily," Galatea answered quietly. "She fell asleep only twenty minutes after waking up, which was expected. You won't have long before Helena will need to rest again, I should warn you."

"That's all right." Minerva glanced at the elder witch with a small smile. "We shouldn't be away from Hogwarts for too long anyway."

Galatea nodded and then entered Helena's room as the Gryffindors watched from the room beyond. The sight of the matron sleeping peacefully on a hospital bed warmed Minerva's heart. She wasn't sure what she had expected to see, but the last she remembered of her was with blood everywhere and now there was none to be seen.

Her view of the blonde woman, however, was obscured as the professor began to rouse her.

"_Air do chois, m' eudail_ [Wake up, my dear]," Minerva heard Galatea say softly. The Gryffindors watched as Helena stir, her hand seemed to search for something until Galatea took it in her own, calming the woman instantly, and even more so with a few soft spoken whispers that Minerva couldn't understand before the matron responded back.

"_Tha thu an seo fhathast_ [You're still here]?" Helena's voice was quiet and raspy, but hearing her speak was a blessing, even if she didn't fully understand what the woman had said. She assumed the matron was asking who else was in the room, or maybe asking why Galatea was there.

"_Thà, a-nis _[Yes, I am]." The elder witch's hold on Helena's hand tightened for the few moments of silence that hung in the air, before she broke it, speaking in English again. "You have a few visitors."

A yawn escaped the matron. "Who?"

Minerva heard a soft chuckle as Galatea released Helena, but that was all she saw before Poppy grabbed her arm in excitement and pulled them towards the door.

"I think I will let them introduce themselves, but they have been wanting to see you for quite a while."

"I didn't keep them waiting when I fell asleep, did I? Goodness, I was so exhausted, I didn't even think about others..." Helena trailed off, her voice dipping into melancholy.

"No, no, dear, they have only just arrived. Relax, I will be outside if you need me." The door opened, revealing Galatea once again. "Go on in, girls."

There was no need to tell Poppy twice. The moment the Defensive Arts Professor stepped to the side, letting them through, then she was already in the room and rushing towards the matron.

"Helena!"

The woman smiled as her apprentice gently embraced her.

"Poppy," she murmured softly, no doubt trying to grasp the fact that she was still alive and able to see the younger witch once again. Minerva smiled, watching them from the doorway. Helena's movements were undoubtedly slower, but there was colour in her cheeks and a definite spark of life in her eyes. The green-eyed witch broke her gaze from the reunion for a moment as Galatea began to walk away.

"You won't be staying?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound as though she was pleading. It didn't make sense for her mentor to leave, and Minerva very much wanted her in the room.

The elder witch did not look at her as she paused to answer.

"No. I think," Galatea sighed tiredly, "I shouldn't."

_Shouldn't?_ Minerva bit the inside of her cheek, preventing her thoughts from becoming words. Now was not a good time to ask questions, but her mentor had spoken to her so dryly compared to when she was speaking to Helena moments ago, that it was a little heartbreaking to hear her refusal- especially if Poppy's suspicion of a relationship between the matron and the Defensive Arts professor was correct. However, even if it wasn't true, it still didn't make sense as of why Galatea _'shouldn't'_ stay.

With a snap of her fingers, the elder witch closed the door, silently forcing Minerva out of her thoughts and to make an appearance with Helena.

"You're all right," Poppy muttered, still buried in the matron's embrace as a few happy tears escaped her eyes. "I was so worried and frightened and- I'm just so happy you're alive!"

"You and me both, my dear."

Minerva frowned while watching them. Part of her felt uneasy meeting Helena again and her dream certainly didn't help matters, but the guilt she still had over ignoring the matron's subconscious call for help, believing it to be _nerves, _really troubled her_._ She had been so focused on being this so-called '_hope_' during the meeting that she had forgotten the bigger picture; they were fighting in a _war._ She had to get that through her head.

Despite all of it though, a warm spark ignited in her chest when she looked at the woman. Helena meant a lot to her, she had always been there when Minerva became unwell or suffered an 'accident' of sorts, and that alone gave Minerva the confidence she needed to walk towards the woman. It was impossible to miss Helena's expression when she caught sight of her, though, but to her relief it was one of immense gratitude.

"Minerva... dear," the matron grasped Minerva's hand when she was close to the bed, "I'm very glad you came."

The green-eyed witch smiled sadly, remembering the state of confusion the matron had been in. "Were you afraid I wouldn't?"

Helena she shook her head, her eyes becoming distant. "I knew you were alive, but seeing you helps to remind me that I didn't fail completely."

"_Fail?_" Poppy echoed. "Helena, that's ludicrous. _Dealg_ was no match for Minerva, surely you knew that?"

It took the green-eyed witch only a moment before she realise what the woman actually meant.

"Galatea was right, wasn't she? You tried to use your patronus to warn me instead of defending yourself."

Helena's expression deepened. "But it didn't make it."

Minerva stiffened at the confirmation. Helena had risked her most precious secret to simply warn her- and almost _died_ for it.

"Next time, just get out alive, all right? I can handle myself, but I'm not sure how to handle losing you."

"You're _just_ a girl, my dear," Helena said firmly, "and powerful or not, it is my job to protect you- not just as a member of the _Spideagan_ [Nightingales], but as the Head Matron of Hogwarts. Besides, you're special to me," she glanced at Poppy. "You _both _are."

The apprentice smiled softly, pulling a neatly folded piece of parchment from her pocket. "This is from all of us. You can read it later if you wish, but we wanted to give it to you today."

Minerva's internal struggle continued to grow as she watched Helena open the silver embroidered parchment and began to read silently. The woman's fingers began to shake as exhaustion began to slowly overcome her once again, but she carried on reading regardless. She smiled as she neared the end, reading the signatures and blinking away the moisture gathering in her eyes.

"That was very kind of you all," she said quietly. "Please, tell them I said thank you."

"We even sent flowers," Poppy shifted slightly, pointing through the window where the bouquets resided. "Professor Merrythought wanted to show them to you later, when you're feeling stronger."

"Oh you girls, you didn't have to do all this-" Helena began, but Minerva stopped her.

"We felt it was necessary after all you went through." The green-eyed witch swallowed and took a deep breath, ready to speak her mind. "Helena, when you were attacked, my astral felt your _need_ for help and I didn't understand it. I'm so sorry I didn't get to you sooner. Forgive me, I could have spared you from such a close encounter with death."

"Minerva, if you won't let me feel guilty over failing to warn you, then I certainly won't let you have any guilt either. None of this is your fault, and no-one blames you for not understanding such an extremely rare ability."

The woman squeezed her hand, a bit weaker than she wished, but that could not be helped. Minerva somberly returned the gesture.

"All the same, I _won't_ let it happen again. I promise."

"If I were you, dear, I would not make promises that you may not be able to keep," Galatea's harsh words echoed the room as she entered again.

"Oh Galatea, _must_ you be such a pessimist?" Helena groaned, glaring at the elder witch.

The professor merely blinked, her expression turning a shade colder. "Forgive me for interrupting, but the girls should be getting back to Hogwarts before they are missed. Besides, you are growing tired and there is another visitor who would like to see you before you fall asleep again."

The matron glanced towards the room beyond the glass, then glared at Galatea once more when she was unable to see anyone. "Are you going to tell me who this person is, or continue to make me guess?"

Galatea's eyes hardened. "Claire."

"Oh," Helena's demeanor lit up remarkably, despite her sombre expression. "Yes, you're right, Galatea. Girls, you really should be getting back, we don't want to cause any more problems- but it was very good to see you both and you should come back in a few days if you can. Bring Miss Hooch, if she'd like to come."

"I think she'd like that," Poppy professed with a smile. "Rest up, Helena, and try not to worry about things in the hospital wing."

The healer nodded, letting go of the girls' hands, Minerva's a little more reluctantly- or maybe that was her imagination -as they made their way out. When the green-eyed witch reached the door, she thought she felt a slight prompt from Avrenim and looked back- half fearing to see Helena on the brink of death again. Thankfully nothing was wrong, but she did meet the woman's somber gaze that flashed with anguish as the door closed, separating them.

Turning with a sigh, Minerva saw the supposed 'Claire' her mentor had mentioned. She was a brunette witch dressed in long multi-coloured robes of blues and oranges, accented with several necklaces and bracelets. She stood there, rooted in place, and staring at Galatea. Her dark green eyes seemed caught between reality and something else- something that made Minerva a little uneasy.

"May I see her now?" Claire asked, her voice seeming strangely indifferent.

Minerva watched in surprise as Galatea gripped the woman's shoulder roughly, staring her down. "Do_ not _stir up trouble. She has been through enough as it is."

"I know." The brunette's eyes clouded with sadness, although she was seemingly unaffected by the professor's brunt manner. "I _saw_ it."

A moment of taut silence hung in the air before the elder witch removed her hand.

"Make it quick, she is growing weary."

Claire nodded then began walking past the two girls, when she suddenly stopped and uttered a gasp. She stared hauntingly in Minerva's direction with an expression so profound that it was hard to describe what she was thinking, even as she spoke.

"Miss McGonagall, believe me when I say that, when the snow falls, it would be disastrous if you leave your sword behind." Fear visibly swirled in Claire's eyes before she fled into Helena's room- leaving the dark haired Gryffindor completely mystified, Poppy ashen with terror, and a very frustrated Professor Merrythought.

"Oh, why do I even bother?" the elder witch growled, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment before turning to face the confused girls. "Forgive Claire for such a bizarre greeting, she cannot help it. She is a very powerful Seer."

The mention of a 'Seer' caught Minerva's interest quite easily as she crossed her arms and raised a brow. True Seers were _very_ rare, in fact, so rare that most considered those who claimed to possess the gift were fakes. The future was a very fluid notion; one where the threads of possibilities could be changed at any given moment.

"You're positive she's not a fraud?" Minerva asked.

"Sometimes I wish she was," Galatea spat with such bitterness, it alarmed her pupil and scared Poppy, as she continued to glare through the glass. Her previous thoughts quickly vanished when she spoke again. "That being said, Minerva, it really would be wise to heed her words. Claire does not give many warnings, but when she does, they should never be taken lightly."

The green-eyed witch pursed her lips as she looked into the other room as well, watching the odd woman sit at Helena's side. She noted that neither of them had yet to speak.

"Who is she?" Minerva asked quietly, forcing a frustrated sigh from her mentor.

"A woman who was once very close to Helena, but abandoned her many years ago without warning or reason," Galatea answered, keeping a severe façade. "You two best be off. Do make sure that you Floo to my office this time, and try not to get lost."

Despite wanting to know more about this supposed Seer, Minerva sensed that now was definitely not the time to ask. Neither sister spoke a word until they had exited the corridor, and while the apprentice continued to block her thoughts from her, it was obvious that Poppy had been unnerved by what had been said. When the two found a secluded part of the hospital, Minerva barely muttered a silencing charm in time before Poppy started ranting.

"Merlin's beard, that was so strange! A _Seer_, of all people, coming to visit Helena!" She crossed her arms tightly around her, clearly trying to suppress a shudder. "And worse, she gave you a warning to keep your sword handy as if there was going to be _another _bloody conflict! Don't we have enough to worry about as it is?"

Minerva bobbed her head in agreement, silently pleased that Poppy was at least_ talking_ about her feelings. "What did you make of her?"

"Well firstly, the fact that she abandoned Helena makes me furious. It's obvious they still aren't exactly on good terms, so why come at all if she _saw _what would happen? Why stir up things if she knew that Helena was all right?"

Bits of her dream flashed through her mind again, causing the dark haired witch to narrow her eyes. "Maybe Claire _saw_ an alternate ending, one where I didn't get to Helena soon enough, or my magic didn't keep her alive…"

"Possibly." Anger flickered in hazel eyes. "But all the same, I don't like it- and I don't like that Merrythought doesn't trust her!"

Minerva shrugged. "I'm curious about how '_close'_ Claire and Helena were considering how fierce Galatea was to her."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, Merlin, do I have to _say_ it?" Minerva crossed her arms uncomfortably. She felt like she was gossiping, and the fact that it was about her mentor made it worse, but when Poppy glared at her she gave up. "All I'm saying is that, _if_ your suspicion is right, _maybe_ Galatea was a little jealous?"

It was hard to imagine the stern woman feeling such emotions, however, it wasn't impossible either.

"I guess you're right," Poppy sighed, letting her arms rest at her side once again. "I just don't like that she gave you that warning, or perhaps it was just the warning itself… I mean, how does she even know about that sword of yours for starters? The whole thing is just ludicrous!"

The green-eyed witch took her sister's hand in a show of gentle compassion. "If it bothers you so much, you could owl your parents to stay during the holidays."

Poppy blinked. "Actually, I was going to anyway. They're going to visit my aunt in Sweden and try to convince her to move to the States. They're worried about Sweden getting cut off from the rest of the world now that Norway has been taken and with the Untergang in Russia they don't want to take any chances of them starting a Muggle-born and Squib massacre."

"That's probably for the best," Minerva said, nodding gravely. "No need to take chances with family."

Her sister sighed in agreement, then surveyed their surroundings. "Do you think we can find where the records are kept in time to avoid suspicion, or should we wait until we bring Rolanda in a few days?"

Minerva pursed her lips. "Later, I think. Galatea made a point of reminding us to '_not get lost'_, which gives me the impression that she might have a way of making sure we got back to Hogwarts timely."

"Yeah, you have a point, besides," the apprentice smirked, "Merrythought can't possibly expect us to be on time when Rola's with us."

Chuckling in agreement, two made their way back to the Floo transport room. Before they left for the castle, however, they made sure to grab a visitor's map.

* * *

><p>The rest of the afternoon proved rather uneventful, save for Mikail being illusive somewhere and Poppy not coming to the Great Hall to study as she decided to see if there was anything she could do to help out with in the hospital wing. However, the much desired peace was not to last, especially if a stubborn messenger owl had anything to do with it.<p>

Minerva groaned at the sight of her mother's bird. He never brought anything but trouble, and today Toby looked as if he was in a sinisterly good mood, even more so than usual. He had a peculiar gleam in his eyes that made Minerva feel as if Isobel was acting through him somehow. She kept an eye on the unpleasant bird as she reached for the letter, ready to send him a well deserved stinging hex to the beak if need be.

Surprisingly, the fowl didn't try to peck her fingers, but he did let out a chilling cry as he flew way that sounded an awful lot like a cackle.

"I really hate that bird," Rolanda growled, turning back to the table. Minerva would have muttered an agreement had she not been wearily transfixed on the address.

"Is it from your mum?" Pomona queried, forcing the Gryffindor Prefect to nod.

"Oi, if it's a bloody howler, I'll silence it!" Augusta said, immediately taking out her wand.

Kevin snickered. "Love, you'll just make it explode."

"So?" The blonde witch smirked, her eyes danced teasingly. "Either way, it's silenced."

"Thank you, Gusta," Minerva said coolly, interrupting the couple's banter, "but I'd rather hear what my màthair has to say, even if it's unpleasant."

The dark haired witch opened the envelope, slightly relieved it did not become animated, and unfolded the letter.

_Minerva,_

_I may not know what your astral's true intentions were by eavesdropping upon Professor Merrythought and myself last night, but I do know that your activities as of late have been rather abnormal and disconcerting. I strongly encourage you to stop whatever nonsense you are up to before you ruin something. Do not force me to intervene, darling. I am not above sending you to Salem next year if you do not behave and leave well enough alone._

_Only I know what is best for you.  
>Màthair.<em>

Closing her eyes, Minerva took several deep breaths, trying to calm her boiling blood. She should have expected this, should have expected to deal with some sort of repercussion, yet oddly it wasn't the threat, that bothered her, but the haunting sentence that Isobel wrote before signing the letter. Sometimes there were hints that her mother had a hidden agenda, that she had a reason behind everything she did. Galatea and Slughorn seemed convinced that there was, but didn't believe it was worth the closed and cold hearted manner in which Isobel acted.

Minerva shook her head, dismissing her mother's words with a sniff of disapproval as she absently handed the parchment over to Rolanda, who was silently pleading to read it, and let her thoughts continue to churn. The intimidation had definitely reached a new high, she'd grant her mother that, but it was an empty threat- especially considering she was of legal age now.

_Surely, she realises that I'll retaliate? She can't expect me to really be afraid of her?_ Minerva's green eyes narrowed, trying to understand her mother's clearly did not believe that her daughter had people that would support her if such a thing happened, thus giving Isobel reason to believe that intimidation on such a scale when she was alone in the world would work. _She'll have to settle for being disappointment then..._

But that wasn't the only problem. There was the matter of how Isobel knew of her lessons.

"_Salem?_" The hawk-eyed witch finally echoed, aghast, breaking Minerva's thoughts. "But that's... She _can't_ do that!"

"Do what?" Pomona and Augusta questioned together.

"Mrs McGonagall's going to send Min to Salem if she doesn't stop her lessons!"

"She _can_ and she will_ try_, Rola, I'm quite sure of it," Minerva stated coldly, her eyes catlike.

"What are you going to do?" the Hufflepuff asked quietly. "I mean, you can't just stop your lessons, they're to help you fight against the Untergang."

"For now, nothing," the green-eyed witch answered. "I'm seventeen, I can decide whether or not I want to leave and Galatea will be behind me no matter what happens. I'll talk with her in a few days, however, I'm more concerned about how Màthair knows I've been doing _'abnormal'_ activities."

Augusta bit her lip nervously. "Are you _sure _Slughorn is out of the question? We know that he's on your side in regarding your relationship with Professor Merrythought, but you don't know what he thinks about you and the Untergang."

"She's got a point, Min," Pomona chimed. "Think about the _Spideagan_ [Nightingale] leader that betrayed his order. He was loyal to the cause, but then changed when his son's life was in danger. Slughorn may be looking after your safety and giving her hints."

Minerva narrowed her eyes in thought. Both girls had a point, but it still didn't seem like something Professor Slughorn would do if his letter she intercepted from Toby was anything to go by and he hadn't seemed terribly worried about _her_ when she came back from St. Mungo's that evening either.

"No, I don't believe it's him. I don't think he would do anything to jeopardize my relationship with Galatea."

"Then who could it be?" Rolanda handed the letter back.

"I don't know," the dark haired witch sighed, pocketing the parchment, "but I can't help but wonder if there might be a motive behind it."

* * *

><p>Despite being a <em>very<em> busy man with all the chaos of this year, Professor Dumbledore could never refuse to help a colleague in need. Besides, he needed to get out of the castle and he wanted to visit his dear friend currently recuperating in the hospital.

"Thank you for doing this, Albus," Galatea said warmly as he entered the private suite. "I know you are extraordinarily busy, but with all that has happened as of late, I do not think I could trust anyone else to guard Helena tonight."

"Not even _Broc_, or _Eidheann?"_ the wizard questioned.

"Worry not, old friend, I still trust them. I even gave into their requests and had _Sgiath_ guard her instead of me yesterday night," Galatea assured, "but they have important work to do tonight. We _all _do after the mess _Dealg_ left us with."

Albus smiled softly at her answer, he was no stranger to how protective Galatea could be of Helena, nor how cold and distant she could become during such emotionally trying times.

All of the Hogwarts' staff members were well aware of the danger outside the castle during this time of war. Having the leader of the Nightingales on the staff was perilous enough, but the threat of the Untergang was just as bad given the group's relentless reputation of seizing their objective- which could very well include undermining at all Hogwarts stood for.

In Helena's case, it did not help that she was well known within the Wizarding World. While the _Prophet_ had been persuaded not to publish the news of her attack, there was no doubt that word had spread by now which increased the odds that the Untergang would take action- odds that merely being associated with Galatea did not help.

"You'd best be off then," he placed a hand on her shoulder. "But Galatea, do _try_ to get some sleep."

As he predicted, the elder witch scoffed.

"I will sleep when I am-" she stopped, placing her fingers over her mouth and closing her eyes as she cursed under her breath. "I told her I would stop saying that," Galatea muttered, then sighed and shook her head. "I have work to do and people to protect. I will sleep when that is finished."

The wizard placed a hand on her shoulder. "You'll do nobody any good if you are exhausted."

Galatea frowned and a solemn expression overtook her. "That is a fact of reality that will unfortunately catch up with me."

She left before his bewildered mind could form a question, much to his disappointment, but then again, Albus was used to the elder witch being elusive about her personal life. Something he himself did on occasion. With a sigh, Professor Dumbledore turned, peering into the other room. He expected to see the curly blonde healer asleep, yet he was proven wrong. Helena's grey eyes stared directly at him and she beckoned him to go to her with a small wave of her hand, another request that the wizard could not refuse.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, my friend," he said, entering the room.

The matron chuckled softly. "For once I can believe that you're wearing your glasses correctly."

Albus laughed along with her as he pulled up a chair and sat next to her. "How are you feeling? I hear you had a rough morning."

"When I first woke up, yes, it was very rough. Merlin, I could barely move. I still can't without over-exhausting myself too quickly, but at least by now I can stay awake for more than twenty minutes."

"I'm glad to hear that," the wizard placed his hand over Helena's, "but how are you dealing with nearly greeting Death?"

"Oi, you know me too well, Albus," the healer groaned, rubbing her temples as a sigh escaped her. "It's a wake up call, I won't deny that. A brutal one," her voice lowered, "especially with so much unsaid."

The professor frowned. "Towards Minerva, I assume?"

Helena nodded. "I'm not sure if you heard, but I tried to warn her using my Patronus." Her grey eyes lowered to her wand hand, watching it clench tightly despite it being empty. "I told her I wouldn't dwell on the fact that I had failed her, so I'm doing what I can to put that past me. To be honest, I'm worried about that girl. I have no doubt that the scene she walked in on when she found me was... scarring, to say the least." She glanced back at Albus. "While she seems to be handling it better than most, she's had three people now in the past year get nearly killed, and she'll probably have more by the time this war is over. Seventeen or not, she's just a _girl_, and completely in over her head... and with more than most people can possibly imagine."

"You're not just talking about the war and the Untergang, are you?" Albus inferred. "Does it have something to do with Isobel?"

The healer scoffed. "That witch is almost as bad as her own mother and doesn't even realise it!" Her expression softened as anguish swirled in her eyes. "They _both_ have a lotto do with it."

Professor Dumbledore knew he was about to tread on dangerous ground, but his concern regarding his protegee was worth the risk. He cleared his throat, "Speaking of Tradisi, what does she have to do with Minerva being unable to shed tears?"

To his surprise, a smirk curved Helena's lips. "I admire you for being willing to go behind Galatea's back for the well being of Minerva, Albus, truly. I think this whole secret business is a waste of precious time," she finished sadly, causing the wizard's hopes for answers to dwindle. He wasn't about to push the woman, not in her state.

"But you're not going to tell me anything, are you?"

With a sigh of defeat, and maybe a heavy heart, she gave in. "You remember the girl's overload a couple of years ago? How Isobel had to perform an _'operation'_ on her? Well, Tradisi had that all planned before she died; she _knew _Minerva would reach a certain limit to her powers some time while she was studying at Hogwarts and placed a block on the girl's mind in hopes that she would win."

Albus took a few moments to suppress his growing agitation. He was getting tired of this, only receiving little details but never actually the whole puzzle, and the feeling that he was getting nowhere fast. "Galatea said something similar, about Tradisi _'winning'_, but I didn't exactly get an answer as to _what_ she will win."

Helena did not look at her colleague, but Albus could see that the usual sparkle in her grey eyes was gone, glazed over by a tremendously tired expression. He got the feeling that it wasn't due to physical means, however.

"A game," she replied tremulously after several moments of silence. "A very long, dreadful and disastrous game that needs to end before someone else gets caught in the crossfire." Helena blinked a few times, tears glistening on her lashes. "Forgive me, but I don't think I should speak more of this."

Not wanting to cause her any further grief considering her current state, Professor Dumbledore dropped his inquiry. "I'm sorry, I did not intend to upset you."

"I know, you're just trying to look after Minerva, and I really should be thanking you for that. _Somebody_ needs to, someone not directly involved." Helena sighed shakily, then changed the topic with a more controlled voice. "How is Galatea? I meant to ask _Eidheann, Sgiath _or _Broc _when they came by, but I was tired and forgot about it."

Albus paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Well, I haven't had much contact with her today, but from what I can tell, she's still a bit shaken although I think that once you return to Hogwarts she will relax a little more. Aside from that, she's the same stern, strict, stubborn-as-hell Galatea Merrythought that we both know and cherish."

That brought a smile to Helena's lips at last.

**November 15th, 1942:**

Malcom sat through his Defence Against the Arts class feeling rather apprehensive about heeding Minerva's advice to discuss things with Professor Merrythought. Near the end of the lesson, he had decided the coward's option and leave without speaking to the stern witch, however, when the professor asked him to stay behind, he knew there was no way he was getting out of it. _No-one_ refused Professor Merrythought.

When he followed the elder witch into her office, the first thing that caught his attention was her change in demeanor when she spoke to him now.

"You can sit down if you would like," she said, her usual stern edge now absent. He nodded, feeling a little nervous about what was going to happen, but took a seat with his sister's words from yesterday ringing in his head, _'the only side of her you've really seen is what she acts like as a Professor'_. As he watched the teacher seemingly relax around him, he realised that Minerva had been right.

"Your sister informed me that you had questions regarding her whereabouts on Saturday," Merrythought began. "Tell me, did she say anything about what happened?"

Malcom swallowed, clutching the edge of his chair anxiously. "Yes, Professor."

"I cannot read minds, Malcom," she said with a smirk. "Please, tell me what Minerva told you."

"She said that Madam Nurix was attacked, and that she was at St. Mungo's with you because Poppy asked her to come," he glared shrewdly at Merrythought, "but she lied- sort of."

Like his sister, the professor smiled unexpectedly at his accusation. "Yes, she did, but do you know _what_ she lied about?"

"Her reason for being with you." His nervousness began to evaporate as they got into the discussion, as his determination to get answers this time kicked in.

"You are correct." Professor Merrythought paused for a moment, as if unsure what to say next, but Malcom continued on.

"She also confessed to you training her, that you're her mentor, and that you…" he narrowed his green eyes, "that you _care_ about us, all three of us."

He couldn't tell what the professor was feeling inside, but her voice changed significantly once again, becoming warm. "I do. I care very deeply about Minerva, Cayden, and you, Malcom."

Malcom tensed and glanced away. He hadn't exactly wanted to hear that, not when the elder witch had deliberately acted as though he meant nothing to her for all these years. If she truly cared about him, then why hadn't she spoken about it before; and if the professor had been hurt by Isobel, as his sister suggested, then wouldn't that give the woman the incentive to want revenge and go against Isobel's wishes?

"Yet, you're distant, cold even."

Professor Merrythought sniffed. "I did not want to. Believe me, if I could have, I would have _loved_ to have been a part of your lives and it pains me very deeply that your màthair denied me this."

Malcom looked up at her with raised brows. "But why? I don't understand. Minerva said that Màthair despises you, that she would be furious if she found out about you having any sort of relationship with us. Why care about us at all when she's hurt you?"

He wasn't sure where he had found the courage to talk to the professor with so much passion, but as soon as the words had left his lips, he regretted them. Her knuckles were white, clutching the arms of her chair, and there was look on her face that seemed to be filled with pain.

"Your màthair _was_ very special to me, and while it is true that she has not been very kind to me, that does _not_ mean I feel nothing for you three. Quite the contrary."

Malcom, while noting her torment, continued to question her, "Then why have you kept away from us, from me, for so long? Is it because I was closer to Màthair than Minerva?"

"Partially." The professor leaned back into her chair, her sad eyes drifting downwards. "I was also anxious about how you would react to a complete stranger wanting to know you and truly did not wish to stir up more trouble in your life. You seem to have been relatively happy here at Hogwarts, Malcom, and that is what I want for you more than anything in the world."

The young wizard frowned. He wasn't sure if he believed her; it was such a big jump from the previous version of their so called relationship. Up until now the elder witch had been a cold and somewhat stern Defensive Arts professor, and nothing more. Now though, he had found out that she knew about him and his family, and that she cared for him and his siblings deeply, yet refused to be a part of their lives while their mother neglected them all.

"May I ask you something that's not really related to this?"

"Of course, Malcom," Professor Merrythought smiled softly. "You can ask me anything you wish."

Malcom furrowed his brows, still formulating his thoughts into words. It didn't help that part of him was still in denial that all of this was real; that his Head of House was willing to show her emotions around _him,_ a mere student. "The night Fang attacked Minerva and Cayden, when you came to me and ordered me to run to the castle and stay in Ravenclaw Tower for the rest of the night, you looked frightened- well, more than frightened, really."

"You are correct. I was scared beyond measure," the elder witch answered, yet it was not enough for her student's liking.

"Why?" he questioned.

Merrythought did not glare at him as she normally would have, nor was her tone particularly stern as she replied.

"Besides the fact that the dog under the Imperius curse could have easily killed an innocent life?" she scoffed, though her features immediately turned sorrowful. "I feared that I would lose one of you three without ever telling you how much you mean to me."

The professor looked directly at him for a quiet moment. It wasn't a stare that caused him to squirm, actually it made him want to be closer to her. He swore that he could feel her pain by just seeing the expression in her eyes. It didn't make sense to him.

"What do you want, Malcom? Truly, at this very moment, what is it that would make you happy?"

"Other than Riddle being expelled and this Chamber Monster gone forever..." he narrowed his eyes in thought. He wasn't sure what compelled him to want to speak the truth, for he didn't really know her at all. He decided on something else, something less emotional and took a more logical standpoint. "To be an Auror."

Merrythought looked at him, long and hard, as if she could see right through him, before drumming her fingertips on the hand rest of her chair. "You would like me to train you, as I am with Minerva, is that what you mean?"

Malcom nodded, hiding his surprise that she knew what he meant. The elder witch did her best to look receptive, but he got the feeling that she was disappointed and he couldn't fathom why.

"Very well, if that is what you wish, next year we will start a few extra lessons. I wish I could start them now, but with everything that is happening, I am far too busy at the moment."

The young Ravenclaw stared at her with a bit of shock; he hadn't expected her to agree. "You'd really train me?"

"If that is what will make you happy, then yes."

Processing what her answer meant for him, he smiled, but when another thought crossed his mind that smile vanished. "What has Màthair done to hurt you?"

He watched the light in Professor Merrythought's pale blue eyes disappear as he spoke. It was haunting how his words seemed to affect her in such a way. He had to commend her for speaking evenly, despite how painful it must have been.

"I assume you mean other than her refusing to let me be a part of your lives and pretending that she never once spoke to me in anything but anger?"

"I-" he caught his breath, remembering his sister's words that still lingered in the back of his mind. "You don't have to speak of it if it pains you too much, Professor."

"Forgive me then, my dear boy, for I could not answer your question truthfully even if I was allowed to."

Malcom opened his mouth, desperate to ask what she meant, but he restrained himself- not just because she was still 'Professor Merrythought' in his mind, but that he also didn't want to push her. He was actually surprised that he found himself caring about her, considering how apathetic he could be sometimes.

"Of course, yes, you're forgiven, Professor," he said awkwardly, aghast he was saying such things to the elder witch. As an uncomfortable silence began to fill the room, Malcom decided it was best to get back to Hagrid before he started worrying. "I should probably be going."

Professor Merrythought didn't look at him as she flicked her hand to open the door. "Yes, I suppose you better."

Malcom paused, wanting to say something to her, but he could think of nothing to fit at the moment. He stood up and began to leave, although at the last second he heard her voice again, making him stop and turn back towards her. "Malcom, if you ever wish to talk to me outside of class, please, do not hesitate to do so."

"Yes, Professor," he responded quietly as he continued on his way out.

"And Malcom," Professor Merrythought called after him again, "please, call me Galatea when we are in private."

"I-I will try, Prof- _Galatea_." Malcom smiled, chuckling to himself in his embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm still trying to grasp the fact that I'm not in detention by now."

"Do not tempt me, young man," she winked, "I can always arrange something."

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><p><strong>I'm getting into a bit of a Halloween mood, so prepare for a bit of spookiness next chapter!<br>**

**~LinK**


	37. Reflecting part III

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

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><p><strong>AN:**

**~Dear Pottermore, stop changing dates of things! **The date of when the Hogwart's Express was made and when Evangeline Orpington was the Minister (the dates been changed by almost **90 years!**) They've also changed the fact that it wasn't Evangeline that came up with the idea of the Hogwart's Express and made another Minister of Magic be responsible for it.  
>~So, what I have was "cannon" when I started planning PoaG. I rest my case and I'm not changing anything.<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter 31 - Reflecting, Part III<strong>

**November 15th, 1942 (continued):**

Minerva sank into one of Professor Dumbledore's comfortable chairs with a sigh of deeply rooted frustration. She had hoped that her studies on the sirens would be a welcome distraction today, not add to her already troubled mind. Ever since finding Quizzle's diary, her research was turning up dead-ends everywhere; there just simply wasn't enough information about them. Even their history was vague. She found that during the last Millennium there was very little events of noteworthy importance except for their apparent split with the merpeople during the 8th century, coincidentally around the same time that the laws of Transfiguration began to emerge, and recordings of encounters of the mysterious sub-species.

_Nothing in Hogwarts that is,_ Minerva reminded herself. If there was any hope of advancing on her theories, she needed to investigate beyond what the castle had to offer. She and Professor Dumbledore had a sneaking suspicion that the Ministry held more information about the sirens and merpeople locked away from the public.

She had an idea as for where to start, when she got the chance. The siren at Loch Ness had not been forgotten in her mind, far from it. When looking at the recorded sightings of sirens and merpeople at that peculiar loch, she thought it odd that there were none, until after 1925. The year she was born. In fact, there were many sightings that year alone. Minerva tried telling herself that it was just coincidence, but she had a feeling that it wasn't.

With a loud clap, Minerva closed a rather large book and Levitated it- probably a little too fiercely -back to the shelf where it belonged. With a sigh, the witch sank into a nearby armchair and rubbed her temples, trying to forcefully remove the stress from her life. Poppy's odd behaviour from yesterday hadn't entirely ceased; while she seemed to be much more focused, she still kept her connection sealed off which of course caused the tension between her and Rolanda to increase, and Minerva had ended up leaving the table at lunch.

Not much had changed with Augusta and Kevin, and while Pomona had received a flower this morning, Queen Anne's Lace this time, she was not herself what with Hestia being distant as of late and spending more of her time with her friend, Mr Petalson. Pomona couldn't figure out why her fellow housemate was ignoring her, or if something was wrong; every time she'd try to ask, Hestia would frown, look away and say it was 'nothing'.

Minerva had been forming a suspicion that whoever was sending the flowers had some kind of connection with Hestia, but now she wasn't so sure, much like she was still unsure about Claire's message and how to respond appropriately. She had kept the sword on her person since then, vowing to never leave it behind, but other than that she didn't know what to do. She needed to talk with Galatea, but that would have to wait. Her mentor was far too busy.

She heard the click of the door handle turning and quickly dismissed her thoughts as Professor Dumbledore walked in. Minerva noted that his sapphire eyes were weary, raising cause for concern, but she still managed to flash a smile in his direction, not that it was hard. Today, especially, she noticed that simply being around him lifted the thoughts that burdened her heart.

"How was the Animagus class today, Professor?"

Dumbledore frowned as he took off his spectacles and began to wipe them with the sleeve of his robe, walking towards her as he did.

"The usual, I think. I still don't seem to be reaching them regarding how to be _'open minded'_ with magic at its purest form and the dimensions with which magic flows through, how it binds with us and how we manipulate it when crossing the threshold to become an Animagus." He shrugged, then placed his glasses back on as glanced back at her with a half smile. "I continually have to remind myself that not everyone is as immensely talented as you are, my dear."

Her eyes sparkled as her genuine smile returned again. She couldn't explain why his compliments affected her like they did, especially considering she was used to receiving them in regards to her magic. Usually she'd brush such comments off and never let them bother her, but not with Professor Dumbledore. Maybe it was because he tended to treat her as though she was equal to him, instead of fawning over her like her other teachers and classmates did.

"I'm sure one of them will understand soon, if not, I could always help. I seem to be getting nowhere with my research on the sirens." She sighed. "I think I'll have to divert to 'Dimensions of Magic' as my topic soon if I'm to get my essay for you finished."

"Hmm, I was afraid of that." Dumbledore sat down in the chair next to her. Suddenly Mozart popped into the room, carrying a tray with two cups of steaming tea. He asked if there was anything else he could do for them, but the witch and wizard both shook their heads and he left without another sound word. Minerva simply had to catch a whiff of the brew in her cup to know it was made with her favourite highland heather, causing a faint smile on her lips as she took a careful sip.

"Over my many years," the professor continued, "I've come to learn that some mysteries are meant to be discovered with an adventure attached to them- and I daresay that this is probably one of them."

Minerva nodded in agreement. "That is my thinking as well, Professor. I have a good idea where to start too, when I have the opportunity."

"Oh?" Dumbledore raised a curious brow. "And where might that be?"

"Loch Ness. With the number of sightings of sirens in a single year alone, I wonder if there's a school of them hiding in the depths."

The witch couldn't help but notice how his eyes twinkled at her answer, nor feel that she had missed seeing it over the last couple of months. He really worked himself too hard.

"I think you might be right. Actually, that's where I found Fawkes. He had recently experienced a Burning Day and was being attacked by a hawk when a siren intervened, throwing her triton at the bird and killing it. She sang to him and nursed him back to health, then asked me to take care of him. He's never forgotten that song."

"That's incredible," Minerva breathed, looking away from him for a moment to hide her churning thoughts. Now it made sense, the reason why the mystical bird knew the same song that had been sung to her. The only question was, why did he seem to always sing it around _her?_ She completely dismissed it as being coincidence now. There was one detail about the story, however, that Minerva found odd. In all her research, not once had it ever been mentioned that sirens carried tritons. The merpeople did, in part due to their aggressive nature, but never sirens.

"It is indeed," Dumbledore said, and her green eyes glanced back at him as he continued. "I don't know about you, but it feels as if we haven't had a proper chat all term."

"Yes it does, these past few days alone seem to have spanned weeks, but in reality, you've only just arrived back at Hogwarts. Speaking of which," she nodded toward his previously injured arm, "have you completely healed?"

"Overnight, as I knew I would, despite Madam Nurix's persistence on fixing the fracture." The professor pursed his lips with a bit of a smirk. "I got quite a telling off."

Minerva chuckled, and laughed louder as her smile spread to his own face. "As you should have, Professor. I found out that you were aiding the Nightingales against the Untergang."

"Did you now?" Dumbledore's brilliant eyes twinkled with intrigue.

"Yes, Sir. Helena even mentioned that you disappeared on her before she could reach you."

The professor shrugged shamelessly. "What can I say, I detest being hovered over and pestered for medical reasons when I'll be healed the next day, no matter what they do."

"Except for your sleep." She didn't know what made her speak so bluntly. Two months ago she wouldn't have dared to step so far across their mentor-student relationship. However, Professor Dumbledore didn't seem to mind, in fact he seemed to welcome her candour.

"You have a fair point, my dear, although this time my loss of sleep was for a good cause." He paused for a moment to whisper a silencing charm around the room. "Professor Merrythought asked me to guard Madam Nurix for a few hours last night."

"Did you get to talk to her? How was she feeling?"

"Much more rested compared to when you saw her, from what I understand." The professor tilted his head. "Why do you ask?"

The green-eyed witch looked down into her tea, resisting the subconscious urge to place a hand on the sheath of her silver dagger. "There was an unplanned visitor that, I believe, stirred up unneeded tension for Galatea and Helena."

The wizard's brows furrowed in confusion. "It wasn't _Sgiath,_ was it?"

Minerva's expression mirrored his. "Er- no, it wasn't. Pardon me, but why would _Sgiath_ even be there?"

"Ah, Professor Merrythought didn't explain then. I didn't think she would, but nonetheless. You see, she and _Sgiath_ are- as one can best describe -estranged adopted siblings."

She stilled as an odd prickle started in the back of her mind, slowly moving forward in her consciousness until her vision became blurry, as if she was moments from sleep. Minerva blinked it away. "Estranged?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed, though I believe their tale ought to be told by Professor Merrythought herself, rather than me."

Minerva agreed, if anything because it gave her another excuse to see her again.

"So tell me my dear, who was this visitor then?" he asked as he set his teacup down. When he gave her his full attention, the witch thought she caught a strange glint in his eye. Believing it to be nothing but the odd light in the room, Minerva continued explaining.

"It was a Seer," she answered. Professor Dumbledore stared at her with a look of such disbelief that it caused Minerva to laugh. "I didn't believe it either, but Galatea seemed convinced."

"Hmm, that _is_ strange." The professor's hand stroked the auburn beard he was beginning to grow out. "Well, I can assure you that neither Professor Merrythought, nor Madam Nurix, seemed particularly troubled on such a thing."

The witch smiled softly at his assurance, but it quickly faded when she thought she saw a book on the far right turn its pages on its own out of the corner of her eye. Yet, when she turned to look, it was closed. Narrowing her eyes, Minerva placed her hand over her pocket. Something didn't feel right.

"However, they were concerned about you and how you're handling the situation. I must confess, I find myself having similar concerns, my dear," Dumbledore continued, tilting his head as he voiced his query. "You were very quiet this afternoon, almost distant. I can't that imagine any of this is very easy for you, how are you truly coping with what has happened?"

The witch frowned, a bit perplexed that her mentor was so relaxed. Either he was unconcerned, or hadn't yet picked up on the strange atmosphere.

"I- um, I'm moving forward, I guess. There's really not much I can do, but worrying and dwelling on it further won't help," she replied, attempting to keep her voice even. "But it was _very_ good to see Helena alive and well again."

"Any nightmares or trouble sleeping?"

Minerva whipped her head around, suddenly hearing distant whispers. She puzzled over what this could mean as she tried to concentrate above the sound of the wind coming through the window, but they faded as if they were never there.

"Nothing of note, Sir," she answered absently, her focus clearly distracted.

"So you _are_ having them then?" the wizard questioned persistently, but Minerva barely heard him. The whispers returned, but they didn't form any coherent words and a chill came over her body, making her shiver.

"Miss McGonagall?"

Broken from her concentration, her green eyes snapped in his direction, only to find that Professor Dumbledore was gone- his chair empty. Before Minerva's confusion had time to register, her tea was suddenly in flames. She tried the Extinguishing spell, but nothing came of it. Now she was absolutely certain that something was amiss.

Thankfully, the fire didn't seem to be going anywhere, it just burned away merrily within its confines. Cautiously, Minerva placed the cup on the table while reaching into her pocket.

"You won't be needing that," Dumbledore's voice echoed in her ears, as her fingers wrapped tightly around her wand. She thought she caught the distinct smell of sherbet lemons, and her heartbeat relaxed a little- but then her senses were heightened once again when another trick was played. This time, all the books in the shelves broke free from their placement and became suspended in mid-air.

"Professor?" the witch called, but she received no answer. The books began swarming in patterns, weaving their way around the room. "Professor, what is going on?"

"It is a test, my dear, don't you see?" a dark, masculine voice that was dreadfully familiar to Grindelwald's hissed, chilling her blood. The room began to change; the brightly coloured walls turned charcoal, the normal candelabras turned into gothic thorn-like metal, while all of the miscellaneous Muggle objects that normally littered the Head of Gryffindor's office vanished.

Green eyes narrowed in suspicion, her unease rapidly disappearing now at the prospect of this being a challenge. She should have guessed this was part of her final lesson, that Professor Dumbledore would be testing her Occlumency. Yet, she noted that Avrenim's security barrier had not been triggered yet. There was still that odd feeling in the back of her mind, but Minerva was sure it couldn't be caused by Legilimency. She had never heard of such trickery-

She blinked and a faint smile danced in her eyes as she pondered that last thought. _Tricks. It's all a trick of the mind. An illusion. But how is he doing it?_

The books, still dancing in the air, came to a stop and shifted their bindings to face her in a threatening manner. Minerva stared them down as her thoughts raced, desperately trying to figure out how to stop the vision. From what Professor Dumbledore had said, the witch inferred that direct magic was probably not going to help her, especially if this was all in her head. She had to undo the illusion.

Lowering her head, Minerva began to close her eyes, when a large mirror appeared in her lap. She intended to ignore it, but that was proven impossible the moment she caught the reflection of two familiar, emotionally dead, hazel eyes glaring into the mirror- her mother's eyes.

She watched, her body frozen, as the woman in the mirror placed a hand on her reflected shoulder- causing Minerva to shiver, almost feeling it herself. When Isobel lowered her lips and began whispering, Minerva could hear it echoing in her own head, despite Isobel being safely trapped in the mirror. "It's not going to work, my dear. _Nothing_ you do is going to work."

The witch opened her mouth to retort when something caught her eye in the reflection. At first she thought it was merely her imagination, but when the light in her green eyes- the spark of life that always seemed to deny her mother - faded, she quickly realised it was not her imagination. Minerva grimaced. 'Disturbing' didn't even cover how painfully _wrong_ the reflection in the mirror felt to her, especially when her mother's lips upturned in soft, loving smile.

"Stop fighting, sweetheart," Isobel begged in a benevolent tone that was beginning to sound believable to her daughter's ears. "Please, stop. Everything will be right again if you just give up."

Minerva swallowed, her hands started shaking as the natural inclination to believe her own _mother _and the desire to have everything _right_ consumed her thoughts.

"Give up, darling." Her voice was like a melody, so for her to surrender- yet that's where her thoughts brought her to reality. The idea of submitting to her mother, a woman who had caused so much pain to the people Minerva loved, was intolerable.

"Give up," Isobel repeated.

Closing her eyes, Minerva muttered her defiance. "No!"

She began to empty her mind, trying to calm the multitude of thoughts just as her professor had taught her. As sounds of explosions rang in her ears, she assumed it was the books being used as a means of distracting her progress and concentrated harder. An immense heat seemed to draw closer and closer, threatening to scorch her skin, yet the instant her mind was completely void of all thoughts and emotions, everything seemed to fade away.

It was when she heard the sound of Professor Dumbledore's soft, but calm tone that Minerva knew she had completed her lesson. "Very good, my dear. You've successfully countered your first illusion, as I'm quite sure you figured out."

While she was happy that her theory had proven correct, she found that the after effects were not so pleasant when a stubborn, pounding in head began to register. She winced, blinking rapidly as she opened her eyes; thankful that the room was not nearly as bright as it had been before. However, the pain was only marginally comparable to her joy of being able to seeing her _real_ surroundings again and her professor sitting before her patiently. His warm expression and twinkling blue eyes was most comforting to her.

"My apologies, but the headache is unavoidable." He floated a few sherbet lemons her way with a gesture and continued speaking as she began to unwrap one. "I don't particularly favour using illusions as they're generally used for mental and emotional torture, but I felt it necessary to at least introduce you to them, so you could at least recognize the signs when someone is trying to inflict one upon you, as I know you began to suspect that a few things were wrong before I _'disappeared'_."

Minerva nodded slowly. "Are there always signs before the illusion takes its full form?"

"If one wants to be successful, then yes. The method you used today is called _Absens_ and while it is effective, there are two other practices you could also use, should you ever find you are unable to calm your mind. _Denegration_ involves shrouding yourself with thoughts that everything within the illusion is false. Simple willpower is also helpful, although it is more effective when one is being possessed, or," he grimaced, "sliced. I pray that you never have to encounter either of those, my dear."

She frowned at how harsh his tone became when mentioning the latter. "Is that the method that Galatea uses when interrogating?"

The sigh that escaped him was enough confirmation for her and she wasn't sure what to think of that. "Considering the enemy she faces, I cannot blame her for resorting to such extremes, but under any other circumstance I would be compelled to bring it to the Ministry's attention. However, let's discuss the other Legilimency methods first, it might make things easier for you to understand.

"The first method is what I have been using on you in past lessons, it's known as _Passive_; there is no physical pain involved, but it can become rather uncomfortable. The _Passive_ technique grabs thoughts and emotions, which can then be exploited into memories. Now the second method is called _Aggro,_ and as you have no doubt guessed from its name, it is an aggressive form. _Aggro_ is quick, fierce, and painful, uniquely designed to shatter Occlumency barriers effectively. _Illusion_ is the third method that uses subtle tricks of the mind to either cause mental and emotional torture, or distract the victim into lowering their Occlumency barriers so someone else can slip into their head without much of a fight. I should also warn you that _Illusions_ can be easily infused within dreams."

Professor Dumbledore paused, finishing his tea before continuing further and grimacing slightly at the topic he was about explain.

"As for _Slicing_ and _Possession_, both methods are generally paired together due to their inherently cruel nature- in fact, they are unofficially known as the fourth and fifth Unforgivables. I have no doubt that, if they were curses, they would be dubbed as such, given that using them is illegal unless authorized by the Minister. _Slicing_ starts off as _Passive _until the caster begins applying physical pain until the recipient's thoughts and memory begin to form. From there, the caster makes a magical incision that literally cuts out the memory." His voice became strained, as if highly disturbed by his thoughts. "The effect is comparable to someone cutting off nerves in the brain."

Minerva flinched, beginning to understand why Galatea did not wish her to be present during _Dleag's_ interrogation.

"Each slice leaves a gap in their psyche, a gateway that opens more of the victim's memories, but also their body- giving the caster a perfect opportunity to possess their victim." Dumbledore continued to explain. "_Possession _causes the person's body to instinctually fight it with everything they have, causing an intense physical pain. It is medically impossible for anyone to deal with the effect for very long if both methods are used too frequently, the brain will eventually send frantic signals to shut down the heart and lungs as a means of 'escape'. The involuntary termination can still occur ten to twenty minutes after the caster has withdrawn."

The witch looked away, trying to come to terms with exactly what her mentor had done to _Dleag_, and probably did to so many others. It made her sick to her stomach. "And you find this... _acceptable_ for Galatea to do?"

"Only because the Untergang themselves use such methods in excess." His eyes grew hard as his posture tensed. "I generally do not agree that lowering one's self to the enemy's level is necessary to win, but the Untergang is an exception I am willing to make. Their interrogation and fighting techniques are reprehensible and while Galatea and the Nightingales use similar tactics in those particular areas, they refuse to go beyond that. They are the only group willing to go so far, and it just might enable us to win."

Minerva considered his words, but found herself unable to judge either side- it simply wasn't her place. She had a feeling that she still did not know the full extent of the terror that the Untergang inflicted, but already armed with her current knowledge, she had a hard time imagining what else there could be.

"Is there a way to combat _Slicing_?" she asked.

"In a way. The best method is to simply keep your mind shielded to prevent the attack, as it's near impossible to recuperate any sort of defensive ground after a 'slice' is made. However, there is more you can do if Possession is used. I do not advise using _Absens_, it's not very effective, but _Resilio _is. Remember when I had you try rebounding my spell several weeks ago? That's exactly what you must do against Possession, except it will take an extraordinary amount of strength to do so," his sapphire orbs stared at her seriously, "and I do not suggest immediately dropping the connection like you did with me, if you wish to escape."

A light blush coloured her cheeks. The witch hadn't particularly enjoyed _that_ session, or that _day_ for that matter, as she had also discovered that Galatea or Helena had probably tampered with her memories. While Minerva had accomplished the feat and rebounded the Legilimency spell against Professor Dumbledore, she halted her actions upon realising what she had done. He had blocked her, of course, and had been quite pleased with the outcome, but nonetheless she had invaded his mind. Minerva was still not, by any means, looking forward to exploring that branch of magic next year.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said softly before cautiously picking her teacup up again. "Professor, do you think it's possible to recover a tampered memory that spans seven days?"

She was immediately thankful he wasn't the one drinking tea just now, as she was quite certain he would have likely choked at her question. He stared at her for several moments utterly astounded, shaking his head softly.

"Seven days... that would..." he cleared his throat. "That would entirely depend on the condition of the memory sequence."

"A few parts are erased, but most of it was gradually suppressed over a span of four days, making it seem as if it was forgotten like-"

"-like short-term memory," Dumbledore finished, then hummed with thought. "I have heard of such scenarios. In my experience, most are typically done to someone who has experienced a great trauma of some kind. Do you remember what happened around the time of the adaquel?"

"I have no memory of what happened, it was created when I was almost four years old."

"Understandable." The professor fell silent, musing over possibilities and options, while Minerva stared into her tea in an attempt to calm herself. The possibility of Galatea or Helena being responsible for _seven days_ of her life being unknown to her still stung her greatly. She so desperately wanted to know what happened; if it was the reason that the two women- particularly Galatea -had been forced to pretend that they didn't know Isobel or her children, why they didn't feel they could visibly show their _love_ to any of them, why Galatea had been watching all of them since they arrived at Hogwarts- if not longer!

The mere thought of all that her mother had forced her guardians to do, made her hands shake- although this quickly stopped as she realised what she had called them in her mind. _Guardians._ They were both _her_ guardians. While it hadn't been clear before, Helena had shown herself to be ready and duty bound to protect Minerva with her life, she more than deserved to be called that now. The more she pondered the change in their relationship, the more she also began to acknowledge that Galatea was becoming something close to a surrogate grandmother. Sure, Minerva had contemplated about their bond on this level before, but this time she was quite certain and able to accept it. However, how to tell the woman was another question entirely- one that she didn't have an answer for yet.

"I believe that if the process of bringing the memory back to your conscious mind," the professor continued, startling her out of thought in the process, "is done properly and delicately, it is still possible for it to be recovered. It would take time however; reliving the length of memory alone would take about two days, not to mention the additional time it would take to undo the original damage."

"Two days?"

"It might even take three depending on how much was erased and how long the process of uncovering it takes- the longer the better, in my opinion."

Minerva nodded, trying to figure out how she and Mikail could possibly attempt such a feat without raising suspicion. To her great disappointment, she realised that it would be best to attempt to recover this memory last, just in case their activities were discovered. With a sigh, she finished her tea and set it down before looking up at her professor.

"Thank you, Sir." She glanced at the clock, noticing with surprise that it was past nine. The illusion must have lasted longer than she thought. "Is there anything else you'd like to talk about tonight?"

"Oh, anything else I think we can discuss as we walk back to the Gryffindor Tower." The professor stood up, offering her his arm in a rather polite and gentlemanly way, which she accepted without hesitation. "Just because we're ending our Occlumency lesson, my dear, does not mean we cannot chat after Animagus Studies anymore."

His smile was infectious and Minerva couldn't help but mimic him as they walked up to the Gryffindor Tower. As they meandered up the long corridors the professor kept his questions basic, personal, but casual as they passed other professors or prefects out on patrol. When they came upon a secluded area, however, his questions became more direct. Minerva didn't mind it, in fact, she enjoyed these walks and his conversations more than she should. Sometimes she would secretly wish that the staircases would force them on a detour or she could somehow extend the hallways to prolong their time together.

"We haven't talked about your family for a while. Have you heard from your youngest brother since Mrs McGonagall took him back to your home?"

She hesitated, her mind drifting back to her mother's accusation against Galatea. "I have, Sir."

"Is everything well, or is there something else on your mind?"

It could have just been the moonlight catching in his eyes, but Minerva was quite certain she saw concern for _her._ She quickly shielded her light hearted feelings and reminded herself that he had been the one to suggest to Galatea that she should stay at Hogwarts during Christmas.

"Oh, Cayden is more than happy to be back at the Manor- being spoiled by our parents, no doubt." She couldn't help but smile thinking about how cheerful her brother had sounded in his last letter. He was so blissfully unaware of the problems in his family, or he was choosing to ignore them at least. "It is more the matter that my parents are disappointed that they will not be seeing me over Christmas as they'd hoped, or assumed, in Màthair's case."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dumbledore said grimly. "I didn't think there would be a problem when I suggested you to say at Hogwarts for Christmas. With the threat of the Untergang hunting Aurors and ex-Aurors looming about, I had thought that Mrs McGonagall would keep all_ three_ of you away from your home, but I guess I was wrong."

"It's not your fault, Professor. My màthair can be very unpredictable."

"That is something I will agree to," he said with a sigh, clearly troubled as his pace slowed. "My dear, have you discovered any possible explanation as to why she has tampered with your memories?"

Minerva returned his gaze, seeing a very deep and true sincerity in his eyes. She was _so _tempted to ask, to simply banish the unwritten rules of conduct between professor and student and just ask him if the thought of her mother's tampering had been genuinely troubling him for some time. However, she wouldn't dare do something improper, so instead, she came up with something more obscure.

"Unfortunately, I am quite positive I won't be discovering the reason behind that for a while, Professor," the witch paused, letting her words linger in the air long enough for her to take note of the disappointment integrating into Dumbledore's posture and expression, "however, I am optimistic towards any clues that might be gained from studying my memories. At this point, anything is helpful."

The relief in his voice was clearly evident as they neared the portrait hole. "I know I have said this before, but if you ever need something to help you, if you have questions or need any materials, please let me know."

The dark haired witch bobbed her head. "I do, and thank you, Professor."

The Fat Lady had been all smiles the moment she saw them coming and proceeded to chatter away about some melody or another until Minerva could give the password, and it was then that Professor Dumbledore uttered his final question.

"Do you know how many times your mother has tampered with your memories? Are there just the two that we've discussed?"

"Actually, those two were _not_ created by my màthair- the other seven, however, are entirely her doing."

It took him a bit longer to respond this time, but she waited patiently, watching him mull over this particular gem of information. The professor was clearly troubled by this information, perhaps more than when she told him about the seven day adaquel, but it was also apparent to her that he was restraining himself. Minerva wasn't sure if he was simply trying to hold back any further questions, or whether he was simply _very_ angry.

"I see..." he almost whispered, blinking owlishly before walking away.

His words cause an uneasy feeling in the pit of the witch's stomach as she contemplated his words, realising that she really didn't _'see'_ what he was talking about.

**November 16th, 1942:**

Getting all three of them out of Hogwarts to visit Helena again unnoticed took a quite a lot of planning, especially since the day coincided with Pomona's plans to help Professor Beery tend to the mandrakes that had _finally _arrived. Augusta managed to persuade Kevin and his friends to keep Mikail occupied so they could sneak out without worrying about him suspecting anything. As for the three witches escaping the castle; in a carefully timed plan, Poppy and Rolanda secretly sneaked into the Defensive Art's classroom while Minerva used her Animagus form to distract a few first years away from the door. After escaping the young students, the grey tabby sauntered back to her sisters.

They expected Merrythought's office door to be closed, but what they didn't expect was to see the professor present in the room. They had assumed she'd be either at the Nightingale Headquarters or already with Helena by now, but instead she was at her desk grading papers and greeted their surprised faces with a half smile.

"Ah, there you three are," she said as she made a few quick marks then put the quill down.

"Y-You were here all along?" Minerva pursed her lips with a bit of a glare. They had gone through so much trouble planning everything with such caution, believing Galatea wouldn't be around to summon them to her office.

The elder witch nodded and rose from her desk, joining them in front of the Floo. "I knew you three would be able to come up with some clever way to get in, so I decided to wait for you and finish a spot of marking in the meantime." Her crystal blue eyes sparkled as if entertained by Minerva's light hearted scowl as she reached for the green powder. "Shall we?"

As Galatea traveled to St Mungo's, the girls quickly discussed the minor change of plan. In truth, Minerva was still partially amused by the fact that the professor had tricked them as she did.

"Do you think she suspects anything?" Rolanda asked.

"No, and she won't if we continue to play along," the green-eyed witch said as she grabbed her own handful of powder and stepped into the fireplace. "We wanted to go and see Helena anyway, so we'll just sneak out after we've visited her."

The girls meet up with the elder witch, who still seemed to be in a better mood than either of them anticipated, then ventured off once more. As they neared Helena's room, Minerva realised that it hadn't entirely occurred to her as of who would be watching over the matron when Galatea wasn't present. Just as they began to step inside, she heard a vaguely familiar deep Scottish voice sternly reminding Helena that she needed to stay on the couch, she realised it was _Sgiath_.

As she watched him carefully, Minerva noticed that the wizard was very different than how he behaved during the Nightingale meeting- he even appeared almost pleasantly civil in his mannerisms. It surprised her when she heard the adults called each other by their actual names, instead of their aliases. She learned that _Sgiath_'s real name was Gregor, and that he was actually capable of a little humour- going as far as calling Minerva and her sisters 'Galatea's pack', which earned him an eye roll from the elder witch, but also a chuckle.

Still a little anxious about Gregor being around, the green-eyed witch continued to keep a close eye on him as she and her sisters spoke to Helena. Despite how weary she still appeared, the fact that she was no longer confined to her bed was a definite improvement. Galatea stepped out of the room with Gregor to ask one of the Hospital's elves for some tea, but Minerva was quite certain it was more so that the two Nightingales could have a private conversation.

Helena, obviously feeling a little more energetic than the last time they had visited, was excited to hear about their activities, how Hogwarts was running, and about Mikail. Poppy promptly informed her that everything was fine and under control, before asking about the matron's own health. In two days Helena would be back at the school, even though she was not allowed to return to her duties until Monday with strict orders not to strain herself.

The tea arrived at Helena's table and their conversation turned towards Quidditch, causing Rolanda to gleefully tell the matron all of her opinions about the upcoming Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw match. Although Minerva was interested, she couldn't help but subconsciously tune out her sister when she caught a few murmurs between Galatea and Gregor near the door.

"I... Gregor, I hope you know that this means a lot to me. You watching over her, it gives me some peace of mind."

"I know, and it means a lot that ye're even letting me."

Minerva heard Galatea sigh and she strained to hear the next words. "Maybe one of these days, we'll get this right."

Gregor huffed, although there was amusement in his voice. "Keep telling yerself that _piuthrag_ [little sister]."

Minerva smiled. Whatever had happened between them in the past, it was obvious that they were both putting forth an effort to rekindle their relationship, and during such a trying time for Galatea it was good to hear that her mentor was able to depend on someone else- despite that it was Gregor. She had to remind herself that there were two sides to everyone, including him. When the elder witch came in, Minerva was quite certain that she saw her smile before hiding it behind the rim of her teacup.

Galatea joined them in the conversation, but not before scolding Helena for trying to get up and pour herself another cup; instead, doing it for her and earning a chuckle from Minerva. It was ironic to watch the pair in completely opposite roles to how they had been only a few months ago, and although she didn't voice this, both women seemed to realise what she was thinking and blushed softly.

The trio stayed a while longer, before deciding it was best to leave. They said their farewells and discreetly made their way down several floors to the Record Department. There was complete silence in the room, broken only by the bell that rang when they opened the door. For a moment Minerva thought that perhaps the department was closed, until a voice rang out down the long corridor visible from behind the front desk that was covered in scattered papers.

"Just a minute!"

A moment later the sound of something rolling along the floor echoed in their ears and a gleeful holler of enjoyment broadcasted the entry of an old man zooming across the room and straight towards the desk, spinning around in circles effortlessly as he went. The chair came to an abrupt stop, tossing the wizard to his feet, who clapped his hands excitedly, his grin wide and his eyes shining.

"Oh how I love swivel chairs! You know, despite being an American Muggle, that Thomas Jefferson really did the world, both worlds, a service by inventing them!" He grabbed his quill, dipped it in the ink and looked up at the three of them expectantly. "Now, how can I help you three?"

_Is he off his rocker?_ Rolanda thought to the others, trying to suppress her laughter.

Minerva smirked softly at the remark. "I'd like to request a copy of my medical records."

"Name please?" he asked.

"Minerva McGonagall."

The sparkle of happiness in the old man's eyes seemed to die the instant he heard her last name. "McGonagall you say?"

"Yes, Sir." She held her breath, fearing some sort of security measure that her mother could have put in place to prevent her from ever accessing the files, but that, thankfully, didn't seem to be the case.

He bobbed his head, muttering his agreement before turning away from them. "Coipey! I need file number 62466-646."

"646 you say?" squeaked a tiny voice in surprise from somewhere down the long, long corridor. "Wasn't that the file requested-"

"Coipey," the wizard warned, "the file, please."

"Yes, Sir."

Poppy narrowed her eyes, casting a glance of suspicion at Minerva. The old man smiled as he turned back towards the girls, held up a hand, and began counting down with his fingers. The instant he reached 'zero' a file appeared on the desk.

"Aha! There we are," he said as he handed it to her. "Anything else?"

Minerva glanced at the file, running her fingers over the cover of the documents. "What did Coipey mean by my file being '_requested' _by someone?"

"Oh nothing, he was mistaken," the man said quickly, crossing out something written on his notepad as he did.

She was quite certain the man was lying, but she simply nodded, forbidding herself from questioning the man further, it was obvious she would not get an answer. She did, however, have one more thing to ask him, despite knowing that it would most likely be impossible.

"You wouldn't by chance be able to let me access my mother's records, would you?"

"You are not one of her former guardians, nor do you have permission; so no, I cannot release them to you, Miss."

"I didn't think so," she frowned, before remembering her manners and smiled graciously at the man. "Thank you for your time, Sir."

* * *

><p>The plan had worked well enough, or so it seemed. Mikail apparently hadn't suspected anything and neither did anyone else, allowing the three to peacefully study in their dormitory for the rest of the day. Minerva and Rolanda worked together on their Herbology essay while Augusta and Poppy, having already finished, sifted through Minerva's medical records. Mico and Oscar were sitting in their respective owner's laps, much to Minerva's amusement and annoyance. The brown tabby had a knack for laying on her homework and books, trying to get attention, especially today it seemed.<p>

"We still need to add something about venomous plants."

"What about using _Diffindo_ against the _Novaculan vitis_?"

"That's not right," Minerva said, flicking her quill to point in the book. "It's the _Venomous tentacula_ that requires the _Diffindo_-" Big brown paws suddenly scurried after the feather as Mico launched himself at it, but before Minerva could pull it away, it was successfully snatched by the little furball who ended up slipping on the book and fell to the floor. Nevertheless, the cat seemed quite happy with himself.

"Mico, you little bugger!" his mistress scolded, although not too harshly as she couldn't help but laugh. "Come here you silly cat, you're getting ink all over your fur- no, don't lick it!"

She quickly seized the cat into her arms and began removing the black liquid as he squirmed.

"Aw, you're too hard on him, Min. You're spoiling all his fun!" Rolanda teased.

"Hmph, he can have fun without making a mess." She finished wiping away the ink and turned the feline around, bringing him to eye level, only to receive a hard stare back. "Oh, don't you look at me like that. I'm trying to work and you're getting in the way."

His tiny tail flicked back and forth, clearly unsatisfied with the outcome

"Wait, Gusta, did you find any records before October, 1925?" Poppy asked, looking towards the blonde witch.

"Uh- let me check." Augusta looked through her pile, then pulled out two documents and handed them to Poppy, who narrowed her eyes the instant she saw them.

Minerva put Mico back down, who immediately began playing with another feather. "Why would there be files from _before_ my birth?"

"Usually for check-ups, but you would think they'd be filed under your mum's name, unless it was something of importance..." Poppy's eye brows rose. "Only _twenty_ weeks in the beginning of June? But that would mean- unless their estimates were wrong, of course..."

"Poppy, if you're going to keep us shut out, at least tell us in full sentences what you're thinking," Rolanda grumbled, earning a glare from the hazel-eyed apprentice. Minerva, now completely sidetracked, wandered over to her side.

"This here says that Mrs McGonagall experienced _'abnormal levels of magic and extreme fatigue'_ related to the assumed twenty week fetus in her womb during early June of 1925. The next record states an accident or something occurred at twenty-eight weeks of development two months later in early August. If their time frame is correct," Poppy looked at Minerva, "it means you were born about three or four weeks prematurely- not that it's a big deal, just something of note. Actually, what's more concerning is that much of the August record is blacked out."

"Probably Màthair's doing. She knew she couldn't keep me from accessing the records so she resorted to preventing me from reading important information."

"Oh!" Augusta suddenly scrambled to pull out a large document of several pages that was clearly tainted by bold black lines everywhere. "I found this. It corresponds to when your overload happened, but there's really not much to see in it anymore."

Minerva flipped through the pages. Unfortunately, it seemed Augusta was right, there was hardly a sentence that didn't have at least one word blacked out. With a deep sigh, she gave it to Poppy to scour over for any possible medical hints that remained, then went back to her bed. She felt like she was getting nowhere, and her fury at Isobel was only increasing.

"I just don't understand the purpose of it all." The dark haired witch sat down, her head in her hands as she tried to understand what could have happened. "I can't fathom anything so horrible that could possibly drive someone into doing all this. It doesn't make sense."

"Cheer up, Min," Rolanda tried, smiling up at her. "Between your memories and the records, we're sure to figure out something."

Minerva stayed silent musing over her troubled thoughts once again, not convinced. It was when she felt a small, warm creature brushing its head against her arm that she looked down, only to see Mico looking up at her with a quill in his mouth offering it to her, and a smile spread across her face again.

* * *

><p><strong>For the record "62466-646" is "McGon-Min" in the phone letternumber system lol I didn't choose those numbers out of random!  
><strong>

**Hope you enjoyed, and 'til next time!  
>~LinK<strong>


	38. A Night of Inquiry

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

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><p><strong>AN:**

~First: I would like to extend my thanks to my wonderful betas for continuing to endlessly devote their time and effort into glamouring this story and simply being the great supportive ladies that they are.

~Second: To those still reeling from the effects of Sandy, all my best wishes go out to you and your families. I hope you receive the help you need and that restoration towards normal life is as swift as can be. Hopefully this update gives you a few moments of pleasure. Enjoy a load of information, lovelies :)

~Thirdly: And this is EmPoweredBeing talking...it's our fault (I'm dumping Spin in here too) that it's been a while. I've been a terrible beta and Spin has been gallivanting around her country :D so excuse us. Sorry for the delay.

~Spin here - yes I may have been gallivanting, but I did end up on TV just to prove it - however briefly my moment of fame was! :P But yes, many apologies to you all.

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><p><strong>Chapter 32 - A Night of Inquiry<strong>

**November 17th, 1942:**

The following day, Minerva had trouble focussing on the task before her. She knew her weariness was mainly due to her lack of sleep from the previous night but she really couldn't do anything about that today. She had tossed and turned all night digesting the new information, and when she finally slept, her dreams had been filled with stacks of papers with vital information that disappeared every time she reached for one. After being frustrated again and again it was a horrifically real vision of her mother who appeared, asking if she wanted to join her for a walk was what finally jolted Minerva awake.

It had been six years since the incident that had forever changed her life, since the day that Isobel had taken up Tradisi's offer to kill her only daughter, and it still troubled Minerva deeply. Perhaps she should have made peace with the idea by now, however she had been twelve when it happened and the fear she felt still lingered, especially in her dreams.

"_Flippendo!_"

The sound of Malcom's voice firing off a spell brought her back to the present. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts and reminding herself that she was in Classroom Seven B, supervising the third and fourth years' dueling practice. Her brother was up against a fellow Ravenclaw named Catherine McEoghainn, who was holding her own despite being a little nervous. A few more spells were cast before Malcom caught her in a _Turnabout_ charm, then finished her off by casting "_Diprimio!_" and forcing her to the ground.

"McGonagall wins!" Minerva announced, flicking her wand to disengage the blue flames as a cheer from his classmates broke out, Hagrid being the loudest and most supportive. Malcom's attention, however, wasn't focused on them, but rather helping his opponent up.

"Why didn't you stun me?" Catherine grumbled as the charm slowly began to fade. "It would have been easier, more logical."

Malcom shrugged, and offered her a hand. "I didn't want to hurt you. We have a Transfiguration test tomorrow, and you'd murder me if you couldn't study for it because of a headache."

"You're bloody right I would," she chided as she stood up, then gave the young wizard a light shove on the shoulder as she smiled. "Thank you, now you better get back to your girlfriend, before she has a fit."

Minerva glanced at Myrtle, who was glaring at the pair with deep brewing jealousy. There were some giggles from the other girls at Catherine's remark, and even more when Malcom groaned. Unfortunately, Myrtle caught this and blushed furiously. Tears welled in her eyes as she raced from the room, no doubt to find a secluded place to sob.

"Oh look, it seems that we upset the four-eyed cry baby," Olive Hornby sneered in such a mocking demeanor that Minerva was almost left speechless. The usual whispers directed towards Myrtle were bad enough, but this was bullying in plain sight and forced the prefect to intervene.

"Miss Hornby!" Minerva yelled sharply. "I should like to think you had a _shred_ of dignity to refrain from such shameful behaviour. Detention for three days."

"Three days? But I'll miss the Quidditch match!"

"Well, you should have thought of that before you opened your mouth," she retorted, glaring the girl down for another moment before facing the other students. "Everyone, back to your common rooms. It's already dark so don't go _anywhere_ alone, we don't want to have another incident."

The students muttered and grumbled, but all began to make their way out. Minerva cast a sideways glance at her brother. She had wanted to talk to him after practice, however, she also felt responsible to at least check on Myrtle as she had a couple of times in the past few months. Awkward as the poor girl may be, no-one deserved such treatment.

_We'll talk later,_ she thought, sending it through their connection. Malcom looked up at her for a moment, breaking from his conversation with Hagrid and nodded in her direction, prompting the half-giant to wave at her.

"Have a good day, Miss McGonagall!"

"Thank you, Hagrid, and please, the both of you, don't delay for long."

"We won't, Min," the Ravenclaw assured. "Good luck with Myrtle, she's been hiding in the girl's bathroom on the first floor as of late."

A small smile touched her face at his pity towards the girl. Two years ago, he probably wouldn't have even bothered, or cared if someone helped the girl that was fawning over him ridiculously. He was definitely growing up and not letting their mother's cruelty devoid him of sympathy.

"I'll check there first, then. Thank you, Malcom."

Quickly, Minerva entered a nearby secret passage as she dug out her Time-Turner hidden under her robes. She was supposed to be on Prefect patrol in less than fifteen minutes, and it would take her about five to get down to the Great Hall alone, not to mention how long it would take to find Myrtle if Malcom was wrong. She made a little less than a quarter turn of the device, activated it after the passageway sealed itself, then waited to hear the running footsteps of a very upset girl.

It didn't take long. As soon as she heard the snide giggles, Myrtle ran on cue with her sniffles and hiccups echoing down the hall, and when Olive Hornby's snide comment could be heard, she broke into sobs. Little did she know that she was being followed by a green-eyed, grey tabby cat down six floors and finally into the bathroom, where she hid herself in a stall to weep away the hurt.

Minerva made sure to transform where she could not be seen by a mirror or anyone else entering the bathroom, then made last minute adjustments to her uniform to hide her ebony markings that appeared. The sounds she heard as she stepped closer towards the locked stall of the poor Ravenclaw were both awful and heartbreaking.

"Myrtle?"

"Go away, Olive!" Myrtle screeched. "Leave me alone!"

"Myrtle, it's me, Minerva McGonagall."

The cries silenced, although the sniffing and hiccups didn't.

"Malcom's _p-perfect_ sister." The Ravenclaw huffed in a condescending manner. "What are _you_ doing here again?"

Minerva crossed her arms. She had been getting a lot of that _'perfect'_ comment recently, mainly from the overly jealous Ravenclaws, but nevertheless, the word was becoming stained.

"Believe me, Myrtle, I'm _not_ perfect." While she could see where it came from, the cold harsh reality was that if she was 'perfect' then Rolanda wouldn't have been kidnapped by that banshee in the first place, Minerva would have recognized it was Galatea and not a werewolf before attacking, she wouldn't have been so harsh towards her guardians when she found out they had possibly tampered with her memories, and she would have prevented the head matron from nearly dying.

"Like you, I have imperfections. I have faults and make errors just like everyone else." She waited for the girl to answer, but when only sniffles were heard, Minerva spoke again. "Myrtle, can you please come out of the stall?"

Slowly but surely, Myrtle took a few steps and unlocked the door of her confinement, revealing her tear stained face and red eyes. Her lip trembled and she began to cry once again when Minerva wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they sat down on a bench that she conjured. It was a little awkward, holding someone she really didn't know, but in the end, simple human compassion won over as she reminded herself that Myrtle probably hadn't a single friend- at least in the Wizarding World.

"I hate this place," Myrtle rambled through her tears. "No-one has been nice to me since I came here, everyone hates me- if not for my big glasses then because I'm M-Muggle-born!"

"Oh Myrtle..." Minerva sighed as she took out her handkerchief then gently removed the girl's spectacles and dabbed at the girl's cheeks. But it was no use, the tears kept coming as Myrtle hiccupped and cried some more. The Gryffindor frowned, looking down at the glasses in her hand. They really were quite large.

"Have you thought about getting a smaller pair?"

"What?" Myrtle sniffed, looking up at her.

"Your glasses, have you tried talking to your parents about getting another pair?"

Her suggestion only brought more tears. "I asked them, but they don't understand! They think it'd be a waste of money."

Pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes, Minerva positioned her fingers on the glasses and concentrated hard. In a few moments, the big round lenses were much smaller and more acceptable for the modern times- and while it was likely that the taunting would continue, it would at least give her housemates a shock, and hopefully make Myrtle feel a little better about herself.

"What about these?" Minerva brought the transformed glasses into Myrtle's view. She felt the hiccups stop for a moment as the Ravenclaw's attention was redirected, which was then followed by a gasp of excitement and awe.

"Did you do that?"

"Maybe."

"You _did_ do it!" Myrtle grabbed her glasses, put them on and rushed to the mirror. Minerva watched the girl's reflection touching the lenses as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing and more tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh look at me," she whined, although in a much happier tone, "now I'm crying because someone did something nice to me!" Turning around, she tilted her head to the side. "Why _are_ you being nice? No one else is."

"Because what Olive Hornby is doing to you isn't right. If I had the power, I'd have taken points from her for what she said to you today, however, I did assign her three days of detention."

Myrtle grinned at that. "She'll miss the game."

"Do not take it as revenge," Minerva warned. "It was merely an act of punishment that I deemed worthy for what she said to you."

"Of course," the Ravenclaw said with an odd expression in her eyes. "And, um- Minerva, don't you have Prefect patrol soon?"

The Gryffindor eyed her for a moment, but she really did need to be on her way and so she left with a quick pat on Myrtle's shoulder. Walking through the castle once more, she began checking her watch for the time, when she sensed a familiar bird watching her from above.

"Hello there, Fawkes," she greeted him with a smile as she covered her wrist with her sleeve again. To her surprise, the phoenix began singing a soft trill- one that she recognized immediately. Looking up, she saw the magnificent creature staring directly at her before he blinked poignantly and expanded his wings. At first she thought he was about to leave, however, when no brilliant flash of light appeared, she knew Fawkes was up to something.

He continued singing the siren's song as he flew around her, his fiery feathers glowing brilliantly as they connected with the moonlight- captivating Minerva on the spot. Spiralling around her twice, he finally soared up. His claw opened, letting a small, dazzling blue-green object drop from his clutch. Reflex kicked in and her hand flew up out, catching it immediately as she watched Fawkes vanish just before he collided with the ceiling. Ridiculous as the bird may be, the witch could not help but admire him.

Her thumb grazed over the object, igniting sparks of magic that tingled her fingertips and heightened her curiosity. Sensing no-one else around, Minerva opened her palm, revealing a large, fish-like scale. Its shimmering light faded without the moonlight, but when her fingers touched the surface again, the light reappeared in an astonishing ripple effect. She didn't need to guess what it was. Fawkes had given her a siren's scale. Closing her hand, gently wrapping her fingers around it, she let the siren's song replay in her mind.

_Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way._

_I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day._

_Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret._

_Tell the ones, the ones I loved,_

_I never will forget._

She recalled what the aquatic creature had said to her; that she had been called the 'Child of Change', supposedly born for morphing talent, meant to discover _their_ magic and how _they_ survived, to suffer at the hands of dark evil and pay a terrible price.

A cold wind chilled her body, making her shiver. The rational part of Minerva's mind made her want to laugh at their superstition and dismiss it all as Divination, however, it seemed very clear that Fawkes believed it- and damn that bird to Hell and back -she was starting to contemplate it herself. Green eyes narrowed as her mind drifted off towards her conversation with Galatea the night of her attacked.

_"You really have no idea why they know about me?" She questioned, gently dabbing a potion around Galatea's injured hand._

_"Let it go, darling."_

_"I'm just not convinced, it doesn't seem right that they know."_

_"The reason is not important."_

_"The fact that it pertains to me, Galatea, makes it important!" she stated, perhaps a bit too sternly than she should have._

_The elder witch returned her gaze with less of a glare. "Please, trust me, darling. What they believe is not possible, logical or theoretical- even for me. As far as I am concerned, it is a dead myth. They are fools to believe that it even exists."_

Her lips pursed as her thoughts resurfaced. She didn't know how, or why, but it seemed that the rogue sect of the Untergang had got wind of the siren's song. _But why would they be interested in a __**myth**__ in the first place? Surely they have more pressing matters than to deal with another species' Divination..._

"Minerva!" The green-eyed witch blinked at the sound of her name and looked to her left, noticing Pomona at the other end of the corridor. "Are you going to stand there all day, or fulfill our '_respective Prefect duties_' and come patrol with me?"

_There'll be time to ponder that later,_ Minerva reminded herself. Forcing a smile, she placed the scale securely within her robe's inside pocket and walked towards her friend. She swore that she heard the faint sound of footsteps walking away from her, but when she looked back and checked her awareness again, there was no one.

"Got something on your mind?" the Hufflepuff asked.

"Let's just say that Divination isn't my forte," she replied quickly, greeting Pomona with a slightly forced smile. "I see you're not wearing a flower."

"What? Oh, _that."_ Pomona sighed, her hand subconsciously drifting to where she usually placed the flowers in her hair. "I've decided that until my admirer comes forth, the flowers don't really mean anything. How did yesterday go?"

"Interesting, to say the least. I found out _Sgiath_'s real name, and apparently he is Galatea's adopted brother."

"Isn't he the one other wizard that glared at you during the meeting?"

The Gryffindor Prefect clicked her tongue. "Yes, he is."

"That's odd..." Pomona's voice drifted off, clearly thinking the same questions that were already swirling around in Minerva's mind as well.

"But on the bright side," she continued, "Madam Nurix will be back at Hogwarts tomorrow and we retrieved my medical files- for what good it's worth. Poppy's having to comb through what hasn't been blacked out for any possible medical hints or clues."

The Hufflepuff nearly stuttered with exasperation. "W-Why would your records be censored? No, scratch that- _how? _Doesn't it take top-level clearance for someone to do such a thing?"

"Well, Màthair was an Auror, she may have requested to selectively remove whatever information she wished from my file for my _'protection'_ or something just as ludicrous. As for the real reason she did it, well, who knows?"

"Hmm... I hope you don't mind me saying this Minerva, but I've been pondering this for a while, have you thought about the possibility that she doesn't really have a '_reason_' per se?" Pomona pressed gently. "I've been wondering if she has some sort of mental disorder that's slowly developing. The signs are very similar, her controlling tendencies and manipulation of your life fit right in."

That made the green-eyed witch stop in her tracks as Galatea's words from a few weeks ago surfaced from her mind. "_The woman who she once was has changed."_

More conversations flooded into her thoughts as Minerva looked about for anyone nearby that might overhear them, then lowered her voice to a whisper. "Galatea mentioned my family has a long line of magical insanity. I always assumed she meant instability in magic, but maybe..." Her words trailed off as the puzzle seemingly began to fit together. "The secretary at the Records Department said Màthair still had legal guardians, and one reason someone of age would still have legal guardians is if they were incapable of making rational-"

The clock tower began striking eight chimes, and both witches cut their conversation with a curse. Quickly, they rushed to the Entrance Hall. Luckily for them, it wasn't very far, but they were still late enough to be noticed- at least by Professor Merrythought's strict standards. Her crystal blue eyes stared them down and her icy demeanor did not let up when she spoke.

"Miss McGonagall, Miss Sprout, you are late."

Despite their close relationship, Minerva found it hard to meet the professor's gaze, and in this instance she decided it wasn't such a bad thing, if only to attract less attention to herself as there weren't many that could stand her scornful glare. "Sorry, Professor."

"McGonagall, you will be with me for the first half hour. Miss Sprout, you will be paired with Mr Hoffman. The rest of you, off with your regular routines," the elder witch ordered.

"Good luck, Min." Pomona tried to hide the smile on her face, as Minerva feigned a bit of uneasiness. In truth, she was oddly glad she'd been 'late'. Galatea was immensely busy and had forewarned her that they probably wouldn't have time to talk for a while.

"I sincerely hope this will not become a habit, Miss McGonagall," Professor Merrythought growled as she slid blue tartan gloves onto her hands and walked towards her pupil, her voice still as stern as ever. "It would be most unfortunate if it did."

"It won't, Professor, and I apologize on Pomona's behalf as well. I kept her up with my chatter and we lost track of time."

The elder witch raised a brow. "I was under the impression that you do not lose track of time."

"Happens to the best of us, Professor." Minerva was quite sure that if it was anyone else saying those words, they'd have ended up with a week's detention. Instead, she received a smile- one that was rather short lived, though.

"Come, McGonagall, we shall be patrolling the grounds tonight." The professor stalked towards the castle's entrance, waving her wand to open the doors and Minerva followed her immediately, easily keeping in step. When the large doors closed behind them, her mentor's stern demeanor thankfully eased a little. Minerva waited while Galatea whispered a silencing charm and wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck before casting a sideways glance at her pupil. "You were not thirty seconds late on purpose, were you, darling?"

The green eyed witch smiled. "No, I really did lose track of time, but I'm not complaining with how it worked out."

Amusement flickered in Galatea's tired eyes as they began their patrol for the night. "I will admit that I am not disappointed by the opportunity either. With all that is going on, I sometimes think it would be easier to use a Time-Turner again."

"Why don't you?"

"Because, dear, I-" she stammered, "I could not trust myself with it. Not only would the effects- good _or _bad -weigh on me physically, but the temptation to go back in time and change _several_ things in my life would be very hard to ignore."

Minerva hesitated before she spoke her mind, knowing her words would likely sting. "Such as your parents?"

The professor's movements slowed as she slowly bobbed her head. "Did _Broc_ tell you?"

"I asked him a few things." When silence came between them, Minerva bit her cheek. "I won't do it again, if you don't want me to."

"No, no, my dear... I am very glad he told you. I do not think I could have spoken of it with the depth you perhaps deserve." Galatea looked up at the stars, as if praying for strength to speak. "It has been forty-nine years since they passed, but I still have trouble discussing their _murder._"

"Was the person responsible caught?"

The elder witch blinked, her hesitation to speak of the matter was evident- and yet when she did, it was with a cold-hearted venom in her voice as her Scottish accent became thick. "Persons. There were_ two_ people involved and no, I dinnae catch 'em. The youngest betrayed and killed the other in an horrendously cruel act, but then escaped my custody because I let my feelings get the better of me." Galatea lowered her head and turned away as she gazed off into the distance, clenching her trembling hands. "There is more to the story- a _hell_ of a lot more -but I do _not _wish to discuss it."

Watching the struggle Galatea was going through by merely explaining such vague information almost made Minerva regret ever asking about it. She placed a hand upon her mentor's shoulder, trying to think of something to say. The silence that stagnated between them was unbearable for her as she scoured her thoughts and feelings for words, until finally she discounted them all and whispered five simple words. "I understand... I'm so sorry."

She felt the elder witch become very still and Minerva began to fear Galatea had actually stopped breathing until her mentor finally drew in a shaky breath.

"They were_ such_ good people, Minerva," she breathed, squeezing the Gryffindor's hand absently. "It was nae right for them to die as they did."

The grief in her voice was so thick that the green-eyed witch could almost hear Galatea blaming herself for being unable to avenge her parents' death. She could hardly believe that the woman before her wasn't breaking, considering the amount of deep despair in her heart, and suddenly realised exactly what Nathan had meant a few nights ago. "_Yeh can't live as she does without going through challenges that morally conflict yeh."_

Living with forty-nine years of such regret, and probably much more, had forged Galatea Merrythought into the person she was today; an extremely powerful witch who could just as easily be cold and ruthless as she could be warm, loving, and still capable of human feelings.

Bringing her other arm around, Minerva held the elder witch close. When the tension in Galatea's body finally relaxed, she patted Minerva's arm and laced her fingers with her protegee, squeezing gently, then letting go as they slowly began walking once more.

Minerva cleared her throat, wondering how far to push her mentor. "Galatea, did your parents adopt..." she paused, unsure which name to use, and lowered her voice to barely even a whisper, "Gregor?"

"Ah yes, I thought you overheard our conversation - and I am not going to ask how you found out he was adopted." She smiled just barely at Minerva before she let out a sigh. "I will have to tell the whole story for you to really understand our relationship."

"You don't have to tell me anything if it's too hard on you," Minerva quickly reassured.

"I appreciate your concern, darling, but really," the elder witch glanced in her direction, "this is a tale that I do not entirely mind sharing. I can talk about my parents' lives well enough, it is just their death that I struggle with." Galatea paused, surveying their surroundings for a moment before pressing on. "Eight years before I was born, my parents went on a mission. The dark wizard they were chasing orphaned Gregor when he was but an infant. My màthair insisted on taking him in until they could find him a proper home and Athair went to great lengths establishing an orphanage in the highlands- specifically for magical children -so they could visit Gregor whenever they were able."

"So they never formally adopted him?

"Not at first," she answered. "My parents did not get married 'til a year later. They were his legal guardians then, but Gregor lived at the orphanage for several years while Màthair and Athair were off hunting dark wizards and witches. It was only when they were finally ready to give it up for a time that they completely took Gregor in. I was only a year old when Gregor began his education here at Hogwarts and by the time I was five, I..." Galatea chuckled softly. "Well, I guess you could say I was a spoiled brat."

As the two witches reached a door leading to a secret passage, Minerva checked to see if it was locked as her mentor continued to elaborate.

"I revelled in my parents' attention and whenever Gregor returned to the manor, I became very jealous. I would do things, play little tricks just to get under his skin and annoy him, that would make him so terribly angry- but I did so in such clever ways that my parents hardly ever discovered what I had done." Minerva looked over her shoulder as her mentor paused, frowning at her memories. "I stopped my childish behaviour for the most part when Gregor was in his seventh year, but by that time he held much contempt towards me, and likely my parents as well for making him stay at the orphanage for so long. After becoming an Auror, he spent less time at the manor during the holidays and when he did... well, Gregor and I hardly talked and if we did it was only to argue. Eventually, he stopped visiting altogether, and then stopped sending letters except for the occasional replies to keep Màthair and Athair from becoming too worried."

Minerva mused over the woman's words for a moment, trying to visualise her mentor as a little girl playing tricks on Gregor. It made more sense now, why Galatea was so interested in the McGonagall siblings' relationship, she wanted to make sure it never happened to them.

"What brought you two back together, then?" She took a few steps closer to the elder witch, who was eager to continue the patrol. "Was it your parents' death?"

"Sadly, yes," blue eyes softened with the woman's tone. "It should not have taken such an extreme event for Gregor and I to set aside our differences and finally meet again, but it did. I hardly noticed him at the funeral until he approached me afterwards, asking if I knew who the bastards were that killed _our_ parents and if I had plans for vengeance. It has taken us many years for our relationship to get where it is now. It is still not on the best of terms, but..." she trailed off into her own thoughts.

"I'm very glad you're both trying." Minerva took her hand and Galatea seemed content to hold it within her own. "He seems to care about you a great deal."

"I think so," Galatea conceded. "He does not say it very often- then again, neither do I -but he does say it. That reminds me, I apologize on his behalf for how he acted towards you during the meeting. Gregor holds much contempt towards your màthair, for the same reason Helena does. He was wary about you growing up to act as Isobel did, but apparently you changed his mind when you flatly refused to go back to Hogwarts when Helena was injured and... Merlin's beard, child!" Her sudden exclamation made Minerva jump. "Put some gloves on before you get frostbite! Gracious, Minerva, I can feel how cold they are through my gloves- and a thick scarf would do you no harm either."

The Gryffindor chuckled, amused by the sudden maternal shift in her mentor, and shrugged helplessly. "The cold doesn't bother me."

"That is probably because of to your Animagus traits, darling." The elder witch stopped walking and gave her a hard stare. "Cats and dogs tolerate the cold better due to their fur while you, on the other hand, do not have that advantage at the moment. Now put them on."

"All right, all right," she mumbled, ceding to her mentor's mothering. Minerva took out her winter accessories, floating her scarf nearby as she began to pull her gloves on. When she suddenly felt the tips of her fingers hit the frosty air again, she brought her hand up to take a closer look and groaned in realisation. Her gloves had been sliced from the inside, leaving fairly sizable holes at the ends of the fingers. "Bloody hell, not again!"

"Trouble with your claws, dear?"

The green eyed witch cursed under her breath as she began to magically repair the gloves, extending several threads and weaving them through the fabric. "Yes, I keep forgetting to take them off before I transform. My claws seem to be the only thing incompatible with clothing." She huffed in frustration as she started fixing the other. "On top of that, I can't risk going outside in broad daylight to scratch a tree and keep them filed as I'd like, thanks to _Riddle,_" she spat his name like a curse, "and all the other Slytherins watching me as of late."

"Hmm, I will have to look into getting you a few self-repairing gloves for Christmas then, and maybe a scratching post while I am at it," Galatea added with a teasing smirk.

Minerva would have laughed if it wasn't for the fact that 'Christmas' had been mentioned. She hadn't even begun to start compiling a list of things to buy everyone not to mention what she could possibly get Helena! The fact was, she hadn't the slightest clue what the woman was interested in... _But Galatea does._

"Um, speaking of presents," she repaired the last hole and slipped her hand inside, "I was thinking about getting Helena a gift..." Minerva waited for Galatea to say something, but when silence reigned she turned her head to see her mentor holding her Gryffindor scarf and looking incredulously at her, her bright blue eyes sparkling brightly.

"That is very thoughtful of you, my dear," Galatea praised, her voice sounding oddly thick. She stepped towards Minerva and wrapped her scarf around her, tucking the ends into her robes as she cleared her throat softly. "I am sure that whatever you find, she will enjoy immensely."

"That's the thing, though. I don't know what she'd like, so I have no idea what to to get her. Other than Healing, I don't know her interests."

"Well, you have definitely come to the right person." The professor tapped her nose and then hooked her arm with Minerva's before strolling out into the cold. "But, where to start?" she pondered out loud as her smile broadened. "I have known that lovely, brilliant, wonderful woman for forty-two years, yet, how to describe her interests is... well," Minerva thought she caught a soft blush on Galatea's cheeks, however, she couldn't help but factor in the cold November wind nipping at their skin. "I have a hard time doing it simply. Helena is very fond of classical, hymns and traditional folk songs, and she has a beautiful singing voice too- one that can warm a sad heart with just a few notes, make you forget all your troubles. I cannot tell you how many times I have caught her singing or humming when she thinks she is alone- it never ceases to make her blush afterwards."

Galatea's smile broadened into an outright grin as Minerva chortled.

"She also loves to wear jewellery when out and about, especially necklaces and earrings. Oh, I should probably warn you; _no_ yellow. She absolutely detests wearing yellow- but its complementary colour is her favourite. For the life of me, I do not know how or why, but simply seeing something violet often makes her day much brighter."

Minerva couldn't help but note the professor's enthusiasm and joy, when talking about the matron. The things she said, but more importantly the way she said them, showcased just how deeply she cared for Helena. There was no doubt in Minerva's mind that the two definitely loved one another- whether or not it was romantically or platonically, however, was yet to be confirmed. Despite that, however, she found herself leaning towards thinking of them as a couple. There was something about the way Galatea's eyes lit up when she mentioned Helena, or anything to do with the woman really. The longer she thought about it, the more she wondered if there might be another reason behind their relationship's secrecy, besides the threat from the Untergang. She did grow up in the Muggle world after all, and after her transition into both worlds she realised that despite the enormous differences between them, there were three controversial issues in particular that divided them for centuries; women, sex and religion. Minerva winced inside, realising that all three clashed with the possible situation and made for _very_ good justification as to why Galatea and Helena would want to tread carefully on the matter. _All the more reason to get to know Helena._

"I think I can work with that," the Gryffindor muttered, already thinking of possible presents. There was one in particular that made her smile, and while she couldn't explain why, she knew already that it would be perfect.

"I take it from your smile that you have an idea?"

"A music box. She can put her jewellery in it and whenever she opens it, it'll play a song."

Galatea's eyes were already very bright, but at Minerva's words, they positively shined. "She will love it."

A comfortable silence fell over them as both witches became lost in their own thoughts. Before long, Minerva began thinking about how to ask Galatea about Claire, or if the elder witch knew about her medical records being censored. A faint flutter of feathers in the distance caught her attention, interrupting her thoughts as she cautiously sniffed the air. It was an owl, and from the looks of it, it was heading for the Ravenclaw tower. While it was suspicious enough to have an owl delivering something this late at night, it's package was even more so. The instant her magical awareness detected it, her hand was on her wand.

"Minerva," the elder witch murmured hesitantly, "there is something I have been-"

"It's carrying a dagger!" Minerva shouted, unaware that she'd just interrupted her mentor, as she rushed towards the bird. She fired a stunner with a flick of her wand and watched as the bird rapidly descended towards the ground.

Galatea didn't miss a beat, her stride matching Minerva's step by step as she waved her wand as well. _"Aresto Momentum!"_

The owl's fall slowed until it came to rest in the Gryffindor's arms. Galatea immediately seized the letter, her facial expression in complete contrast to what it had been before.

"Macnair!" she hissed angrily as she recognised the seal, then ripped the envelope open. Yet, she paused before glancing inside to stare dangerously at Minerva. "Do _not_ touch it. It could be poisoned... or worse."

The green-eyed witch murmured her agreement and nervously watched as Galatea carefully Levitated the object from its casing. The fury in her eyes was becoming more visible to Minerva as the professor rotated the knife around with her wand, inspecting it cautiously.

Suddenly Minerva realised there was a phantom presence behind them and spun around, her sword already in hand and her wand pointed at the unknown intruder. Her mentor, however, did not react.

"_Broc_, reveal yourself this instant!" Galatea barked. On cue, the wizard did as he was told, illuminating his wand as he stepped forth. However, the Nightingale Captain directed the knife at him making sure he did not advance further. Minerva's heart began beating faster, unsure exactly what was happening. Her green eyes flicked back and forth between the two Nightingales, anxious to learn what she was currently involved in.

"_Faol_?" He questioned. Minerva had to applaud him for not sounding nervous in the wake of Galatea's glare.

"What colour were your eyes before our seventh year?" her mentor demanded icily.

"_Mo mhàthar shùilean,_ _bha iad dorch-ghorm _[My mother's eyes, they were dark blue]."

Satisfied with Nathan's answer, Galatea gave a curt nod and began inspecting the knife once again as if nothing had happened.

The lavender-eyed wizard glanced at Minerva, noticing her weapons still obviously displayed and smirked. "Still not used to me, _Dùil_?"

"It might help if you revealed your presence _before_ I take out my wand."

"Ah, but where's the fun in that?" he winked at her, then turned his attention towards his Captain. "Is it an Untergang model?"

Minerva sheathed her sword and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she watched the two Nightingales, however, her hand wouldn't stop fiddling with her wand. A knife being smuggled into Hogwarts at any time was disconcerting, but during these dark days was especially troubling.

"Yes, but it is outdated," the elder witch answered her Lieutenant . "The blade is too long and the hilt is too heavy, not as well curved and less aerodynamic- 'tis what they used in the 1890s."

Observing the knife, Nathan's lip curled. "Ye're right. Do yeh want me to take it to Headquarters for closer inspection and have them strip away anythin' dangerous?"

"Yes, please do. I will take this to the Headmaster in the morning after a talk with Miss Macnair." Galatea removed her scarf, handing it to the wizard while she kept the dagger steady in the air.

"You mean Jordan's daughter?" he questioned, wrapping the object as he did. "Blimey, _Faol_, why the bloody hell would that lass be gettin' an Untergang knife?!"

Minerva held her tongue, fighting her curiosity to ask how they knew Jordan Macnair, but he seemed to be an acquaintance of theirs, if not a friend.

"I have no idea but her brother, Walden, is a cockroach! The lad did not return for his seventh year, instead he left to fight in the war- and you can guess which side!" Galatea pocketed her wand after Nathan finished. "I am curious to know if this is some sort of prank, a message perhaps, some way of telling his sister that he is alive, or a cover up and this was meant for someone else."

"Bastard," the wizard growled while stashing the item carefully in his pocket. "Well, good luck, _Faol_."

The elder witch placed a hand on his shoulder for a moment. "You too, mate- and will you tell _Saighead_ not do anything stupid while testing that abominable thing for me, please?"

"Oi! Yeh know ye're the only person who can tell him that without gettin' hexed!"

"Precisely." A half smile curved Galatea's lips before she turned around and motioned for Minerva to follow her, leaving Nathan chuckling in the background. The pair drew near the outskirts of the Transfiguration courtyard before the professor spoke up. "I presume you have questions?"

The Gryffindor sighed. Yes, she definitely did, but there were too many to count and not enough time to ask them. "I think at this point, Galatea, I'll just let you tell me what you think I should know."

"Fair enough. I advise you to keep a close watch on not only Mr Lutrov, but most of the Slytherins as well 'til we get to the bottom of exactly who, and why the dagger was being sent. I do not think you have any reason to fear Jean Macnair, she is a sweet lass like her parents. Her brother is just an apple gone rotten, as I am sure you have figured out. I will inform you of what has been discovered in a few days."

"Okay," she breathed, letting out a deep sigh and trying to ease her mind. She had to believe what her mentor said. "Did you ever find anything regarding the Cruciatus Curse used on Miss Prince?"

"Ah yes... we never did talk about that, did we? Merlin, that seems like it happened a year ago," Galatea groaned as she rubbed her temples. "I do apologize, darling, I meant to tell you, but it slipped my mind what with all the chaos as of late. Miss Prince never confessed who the so called 'Gryffindors' were that Cruciated her. All of the Heads of House as well as the Headmaster agree it was likely not a Gryffindor. We have come to the conclusion that she was either made to believe it was, or forced to say it, by whomever tortured the poor girl. She is being monitored by all the professors for any suspicious behaviour." Her voice grew colder and colder as she pressed on. "If you ask me, however, I think it was Riddle. I think that little _snake_, is up to something and I would not put it past him to be the one that the Untergang is using, or at the very least to be someone they are interested in recruiting."

"I agree. Not even Mikail seems to like him."

"Really? That is... _interesting._" The professor huffed in frustration. "I am half tempted to simply summon them both to my office, give them a good dose of Veritaserum and have them confess everything."

Green eyes narrowed. After learning about the Legilimency method Galatea used against her enemies, the fact that she was considering interrogating her fellow students, no matter who they were, almost made Minerva shiver.

"Well, why don't you?" she tried not to sound too disapproving or bitter, but she knew she had failed when Galatea whipped her head around, stopping where she stood.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're still technically an Auror. You have authorization under the Ministry's Decree of War to use Legilimency and Veritaserum on anyone you deem to have ties with the enemy." Minerva noticed the pale blue eyes continue to stare at her in bewilderment, as if Galatea was trying to figure out how she could have possibly said such a thing.

"Well for one thing, dear," she swallowed, hard, then proceeded in a defensive tone, "Tom Riddle is not of legal age, and 'til I get my hands on evidence that either of them are really working for the enemy, I could _never _do such a thing, not to one of my students! That is where I draw a line." Her eyes sharpened. "Did Professor Dumbledore explain _Slicing_ and _Possession_ to you?"

"Yes, he did. He didn't say that you used it 'til I asked, however, and that is when I came to realise that you killed _Dealg_ by interrogating him with those methods."

"And you're wondering how I could possibly do such a thing, yes?" The bitterness in the professor's voice mirrored that of the cold night, causing Minerva to look away. She wasn't trying to question whether it was right or wrong, rather that she was just having a hard time seeing her mentor as someone that could kill people in such a barbaric and cruel fashion. This was a woman that she looked up to, loved and was even beginning to consider her to be something like a grandmother- and despite her understanding of the situation, she was still having trouble dealing with the notion.

"I will not deny it, nor will I defend my actions. I believe using such methods against the enemy is justified due to who they are, what they do... Minerva, Untergang agents kill people without a second thought, or without a single reason sometimes. They turn _children_ into monsters, then send them out to kill their own families, and the families of their former friends; they torture people into insanity with the Cruciatus curse, then leave them to starve to death. They have-" her voice shook with disgust, "-even been known to curse someone's skin ablaze and letting it burn until they gain the information they want!"

Minerva couldn't help but flinch at the last revelation, beginning to understand the necessity of fighting back on _their _terms. People who took pleasure in such barbaric methods would probably be almost impossible to get information out of by any other means.

"What I do," Galatea continued on, "is such a small thing compared to the evils, the atrocities, that they commit- and I assure you, if I was not able to do it legally, I would _never _use it."

Green eyes found her mentor's pale blue orbs that seemed to plea for some small measure of middle ground.

"You do not have to like what I do, darling, Merlin knows I do not like it either, but there are not many other options where the Untergang are concerned. They _must_ be stopped in order to protect the innocent people from such heinous crimes!" Galatea sighed, her features now more serene and her brogue suddenly becoming thick. "Sometimes you have to make decisions of moral conflict when fighting your enemies. You learn that when you become an Auror."

"I'm sorry, Galatea, I wasn't trying to insult you or-"

The professor held up her hand. "No, please do nae apologize. I sometimes forget just how old you are, what you have yet to experience, how you were brought up. I cannae blame you for trying to stick to your morals."

"It's not about morals, not really, I just..." green eyes studied the ground, "Tradisi was such a... a _badhbh olc _[wicked old hag] wanting Màthair to kill me, and with Màthair being as cruel and manipulative as-" she stopped, wetting her dry lips. "Ever since you and I started our relationship, I've viewed you as someone who's completely different from them. You care about me and love me, and I have a hard time imagining you- you..." her words failed her, seemingly escaping with the condensation of her breath.

"Oh," footsteps followed Galatea's whisper before the professor took her hand and their gaze connected. "Darling, I would _never_ dream of doing such a thing! I could _never _use _Slicing_ or _Possession_ on anyone I care about, especially you!" She trembled, her expression becoming ashen. "Gods, if I ever did that..." a shiver coursed through her body, "I dinnae think I could possibly live with myself afterwards."

In a odd way, Minerva was comforted by those words, it demonstrated how different Galatea was from _them_. Not sure what to say, the green-eyed witch glanced at her mentor for a moment of silence then bobbed her head. Galatea smiled- one of sorrow and regret -then gently steered her back to their duties, and after such a night of revelations, Minerva followed without protest as her thoughts continued to churn.

"Galatea, were you trying saying something before we found the knife?"

"Ah... no." Blue eyes met Minerva's, but betrayed nothing. "Never you mind about that, it was nothing. I am sure you have more pertinent questions anyhow."

Minerva pursed her lips for a moment, quite sure that wasn't the truth, but shrugged as they made their way around another tower, scanning the area as they did. "All right then, how about Claire?"

The minute the Seer's name was spoken, the professor visibly grew tense. "What about her?"

"Well for starters," she eyed her mentor as if her question should have been obvious, "the warning she gave. Is there anything I should do about it, other than keep the sword handy?"

"That is the tricky thing with the future," Galatea muttered with a highly condescending growl in her throat, "there really is not much you _can_ do. It is always in motion and even the smallest occurrence can change the future dramatically. Claire feels that, for the most part, informing a person of her visions often has the opposite effect on their future rather than if she had stayed silent. By not telling them about what she sees, they are more apt to make any decision they like and perhaps changing the course of their future for the better."

"If that is so, then why did she speak of her vision in the first place?"

"Goodness, child, I do not know that answer." Galatea narrowed her eyes, her tone growing cynical. "However, from what I know of the woman, Claire tends to only take action and give hints in instances of life and death, or a major shift in the so called _'balance'_ of things- but the nature of true Divination is very tricky. Sometimes her warnings can actually be the cause of an event, which is why she does not give many. By my understanding, she takes several precautionary methods before doing so, however; such as Arithmancy to help her decide what course of action to take, before weighing the pros and cons and choosing her words _very_ carefully in order to enhance the best outcome."

Minerva sniffed sharply. "That sounds absolutely ludicrous."

Galatea chortled. "Be thankful I am the one telling you these things then, because when she starts going on about it you might think she is a bit mad- that is, if she does not stop herself first." The humour in her voice vanished, replaced with a softer tone. "Claire, like most _true_ Seers, knows of the discrimination against those with her ability first hand. She is highly cautious about how she speaks when in public and is not one to flaunt her abilities. In fact, unless she unintentionally reveals herself when receiving a prophecy, or speaks of a vision, most people do not realise who she is."

"You sound almost sympathetic."

"Perhaps a wee bit. It is unfortunate that our society can be so hard on those who truly have the gift, however, that does not excuse her for suddenly abandoning Helena without reason."

It dawned upon Minerva that it was a belief both her guardians shared. Galatea was furious with Claire for leaving Helena, and in turn, Minerva was still outraged over how Isobel ignored Galatea. Both women were fiercely protective over the other in their own way, and it showed considerably.

"Did Claire receive an alternate vision of Helena's attack then?"

That question left the elder witch quiet for a few moments, her eyes swirling with intense emotions.

"Yes," Galatea said finally, "she _saw_ a scenario in which Helena died, and as much as I would have... _preferred_ to keep that nonsense from Helena 'til she was feeling better, I could not keep Claire from at least seeing her after what she witnessed." Her lip curled in disgust. "I will not pretend to understand why- _or how_ -she still cares about Helena after what she did many years ago, nor do I entirely care to. I leave it up to Helena to decide whether she is able to tolerate Claire's antics, she is her own woman after all."

Minerva took her mentor's words as a hint to move on, and she gladly took it. "This might sound like an odd question, but why does Màthair have legal guardians?"

From the corner of her eye, she saw her mentor almost stumble and quickly reached out to steady her. "H-How did you did you find out about that?"

"I went to the Records Department in St Mungo's," she confessed as Galatea stood up straight, "and out of curiosity, asked if I could view Màthair's as well as my own and the secretary mentioned it."

Crystal blue eyes lit up once again, and Minerva was quite sure she heard hope surging in her voice. "So you have your records then? Did you find anything?"

"No, not really." The green-eyed witch tried to keep herself from sounding too disappointed but she was quite sure that she didn't succeed. "Other than finding out that I was born almost a month prematurely, there's not much we can decipher. A lot has been blacked out."

"Yours too? Why would your files be censored as well?" The professor whispered absently before a fury ignited in her eyes. She turned, moving slightly away from Minerva with her hands on her hips, muttering something about damning a witch in her native tongue as she paced.

"What do you mean?"

Galatea's fury seemed to lessen for a moment, revealing her genuine disappointment. "Minister Gambol blacked out Isobel's file. It made sense at the time, but-" she shook her head "-then Orpington would not have classified yours if that was the case..."

Minerva narrowed her eyes. "So Màthair couldn't have done it?"

Her mentor stopped pacing and rubbed the back of her neck. "No. She could have requested certain details such as your birth date, family and where you live to be kept off record- but any more than that requires the Minister, or someone close in rank. So unless Isobel managed to persuade Evangeline, this is all purely the Minister's doing..." Galatea suddenly became very still for a time before she grimaced, crossed her arms and leaned against the building. "Or possibly mine. Damn!"

"What?"

"Och, I told Evangeline that the Untergang was out to get you. She might have censored all of your files in hopes that no one would find out who you are."

"But wouldn't that involve hiding my name, where I live, my birth date, and everything that someone could use to find me?" the green-eyed witch asked, suddenly feeling nervous. She didn't like where her assumptions were taking her thoughts and she didn't really want to put it into words. "None of that sort was blacked out. Just the medical details."

She watched as her mentor mulled over her words; how those pale blue orbs darkened, lips becoming thin as paper, as every muscle in her body seemed to tense as her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles whitened.

"That - bloody - witch!" Galatea uttered a low snarl of outrage as she removed herself from the stone wall and stalked off to continue their journey. Minerva quickly rushed to catch up, not wanting to miss a beat. "That means the Minister did this for her own blooming reasons. Evangeline may be one of the greatest Ministers that Britain has ever had, but she is just as meddlesome as all the others!"

Minerva felt her chest compress as the world around her suddenly seemed to swirl. It also meant that it wasn't just her mother that was preventing her from knowing the prized secret now, it was the government as well. _What else is going to go wrong? What else is going to stop me?_

To her great disappointment, Minerva could see the castle's entrance up ahead and knew they would have to wrap up their conversation and save it for another time. As much as she wanted to ask other questions, she recognized how furious her mentor was and decided it could all wait for next time. Almost as if Galatea had read her thoughts, she halted their approach one last time- and before Minerva knew it, she felt a warm, gloved hand cup her cheek, forcing her to look into her mentor's angry, but deeply sincere orbs.

"I will have a talk with our _esteemed_ Minister about this, I can assure you, darling. I cannot promise answers, but by Merlin, I am going try!"

There was something within her words that pulled at Minerva's emotions and made her tired heart swell. Galatea had _wanted_ her to find those records, _wanted_ her to ask questions regarding the contents of the files. She was willing to help her get the evidence she needed, willing to fight off the frustrating forces that seemed determined to keep her from ever learning anything about Isobel.

Wrapping her arms around the elder witch, Minerva hugged her tightly, silently expressing her immense gratitude. When she felt Galatea embracing her back, holding her close with such affection that she could almost feel the unrequited love from the woman's heart, she found it all a little overwhelming.

"I'm so tired of this, Galatea," she whispered, her voice cracking, as she leaned against the solid form of the woman who meant so much to her.

"I know, sweetheart. I am too." Galatea kissed her temple, her hand rubbing Minerva's back. "_Tha gaol agam ort_ [I love you]."

They stayed there in each other's warm embrace for a few more moments, enjoying the comfort it gave and wishing for the courage to tell the other what they simply were unable to- or in Galatea's case, had been interrupted -before finally giving into the cold. While both witches were still deeply troubled by tonight's round of inquiries and revelations, they felt deeply refreshed. As they carried out their respective lives for the rest of the night, they smiled at just how blessed they were; they were still alive, still talking, and still very much loved one another.

No longer was this a dream for either of them, but a reality they were so eternally grateful existed.

* * *

><p><strong>'Til next time!<br>~LinK**


	39. Recollecting and Reason

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

~By Your Side, Tenth Avenue North

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><p><strong>AN:**

~The election, a major computer crisis, and then college stuff was all dreadful for my muse. However, on the upside, I got a new laptop and it's got a touch-screen! But yes, I'm very sorry about the delay and I hope the contents make up for it! Oh, and on that note, it's been a year since PoaG started! :D

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><p><strong>Chapter 33 - Recollecting and Reason<strong>

**November 18th, 1942:**

Rolanda Hooch narrowed her eyes as she stared across the dinner table at her quiet, russet-haired sister. For the fourth consecutive day, Poppy Pomfrey was refusing to open her connection or even give a satisfactory explanation as to why. Her behaviour seemed to be in a constant flux; she was noticeably avoiding Mikail again, which wasn't too surprising but it was nonetheless remarked upon, and while the unknown conflict appeared to be less on her mind, Rolanda suspected that it was still troubling her more than she let on.

Whenever Rolanda would catch Poppy in a daze, she couldn't help but notice her eyes, and how they seemed to hide a deep anguish, and it caused a pang of hurt in her chest to think that Poppy wouldn't share it with them.

She wanted to help her just as both of them had helped each other countless times before, but it seemed that if she were even to try, Poppy would refuse. Minerva was continuing to advise patience, believing Poppy would come around when her turmoil had settled, but Rolanda hated being patient, and it only worsened when one of her sisters was obviously in pain.

Today was no exception. Almost everyone in the Great Hall had finished their dinner, except for Poppy, who seemed to be miles away, refusing to look anywhere but to the left of her, where Mikail was chatting away with Kevin about some potion or another.

"Poppy," the hawk eyed witch murmured, "are you going to eat or not?"

"Hmm?" Poppy blinked as she looked up. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Dear, you've hardly touched your plate," Rolanda gently reminded, doing her best to keep her agitation from showing.

"Oh, right," she breathed, lowering her gaze once again as a spark of anguish ignited in her eyes. "I'm not hungry."

Rolanda pursed her lips, which progressed to a full-on scowl as Minerva cast a warning glare in her direction.

_Let it go, Rola; let her be._

_I'm worried about her, Min! What the devil is causing her to withdraw like this? We've __**always **__been close... none of us have ever done this before, not to this extent._

_Pressing the topic won't help either, as you've experienced,_ the green-eyed witch reminded._ Give her some space. Time and patience will do us all some good after what we've-_

Their silent conversation was suddenly interrupted by the screech of a hawk-like owl, wearing an unmistakable collar, that caused everyone in the Great Hall to turn and stare as it flew in.

_Thank Merlin- it's not Toby,_ was Minerva's first thought, but before Rolanda could agree, she realised it was coming towards _her._ It wasn't her mother's or her uncle's owl though, which made it all the more bizarre. It slowed down its descent, circling above, trying to find a place to land. Releasing a low, long breath to calm her nerves, Rolanda moved from the table and held her arm out stiffly. The owl swooped down, and Rolanda was eternally grateful that the Ministry had decreed that all messenger owls had to have a cushioning charm on their talons, as the owl gripped her arm.

_Why is Galatea watching?_ Her sister's inquiry echoed softly in her head as Rolanda took the letter from the owl, then gave it a piece of bacon.

_What do you mean? _She blinked at the dark haired witch in confusion, who subtly tilted her head towards the staff table. Hawk-like eyes glanced at Professor Merrythought, meeting the elder witch's gaze which wasn't as stern as she expected, but softer and full of concern. Clearly Merrythought knew, or at least suspected what the letter contained, which considering she was leader of the Nightingales, didn't entirely settle Rolanda's rising suspicions as her eyes scanned the Ministry stamp below her mother's name in the corner.

**DO NOT REPLY**

Numerous theories were coursing through her head, each worse than the last, until Minerva placed a calming hand on her shoulder. Her mother _never_ sent urgent mail, believing it should be reserved for only the most dire of emergencies.

"Who's it from?" Poppy asked as Rolanda opened the letter.

"My mum, she sent it from the Ministry." She swallowed as she unfolded the parchment, well aware that the group's eyes were all on her, and probably Merrythought's as well.

_My darling daughter,_

_I have no doubt that you will be wondering what in Merlin's name is going on when you receive this. I was advised not to inform you until later, but by the Gods' great gaze, I feel as though I would be betraying your father if I kept silent much longer. A week ago, Professor Merrythought received solid proof that your father was murdered, that he did not commit suicide. There is no guessing anymore, sweetheart. The pure-bloods can say whatever they like, but there is now evidence that cannot be disputed. It is not certain who the bastard is that killed him, but Merrythought and another wizard she works with are positive we will find out soon._

_I know that you probably want to write to me and ask a million questions, but I must insist that you don't. For now, just trust that I will tell you when I can. I am already risking too much by sending this to you. Secrecy is key to learning the identity of the murderer, but also for keeping you safe, as it is more than likely that the scum was connected with the Untergang and no doubt fled to them for protection. I implore you, darling, no matter how much you want to, do not write to me until you receive my next letter._

_After nine years, nine years of being shunned for believing that the wonderful man that was your father did not kill himself, we will finally get the truth. I know you are ready for this, as am I, and we'll get through this, darling. We always have, always will. Your uncle Peter is here, he's helping me process all of this. He wishes you well and hopes to see you for Christmas, as you know I do too._

_I love you so much, Rolanda.  
>Mother<em>

Rolanda's breathing had steadily increased after she read the first paragraph and she subconsciously began to suppress her emotions and the connection. She let Minerva take the letter from her grasp as she lowered her gaze, desperately trying to grapple with the information as memories of her father, the few she still possessed, flashed through her eyes. Rolanda had not forgotten his departure and the words he said to her; and despite how much she wished it, she had not forgotten the day the Ministry official came to deliver the fateful news. She could never forget how her mother broke down, nor the whispers at the funeral from the pure-bloods about his death - whispers that still to this day hadn't ceased.

"Merlin's beard, Rola," Minerva murmured, "you've been waiting so long for this."

Rolanda found herself bobbing her head. "Excuse me, but I'd like to be alone for a little while."

"Rola?" Poppy reached across the table to touch her trembling hand, but the hawk-eyed witch pulled away.

"Talk with Minerva if you want to find out, but I can't talk about it here," her voice cracked under the raw emotions that threatened to overwhelm her and she quickly made her way out of the Great Hall. She briefly caught a glimpse of Mikail moving to sit closer to Poppy before passing him, but didn't bother to look back.

"Vhat is wrong vith, Rolanda?" she heard, as if in a dream.

"If I were you, Lutrov, I'd mind my own business!" Poppy's harsh tone should have raised questions in Rolanda's mind, but it didn't; the fight to keep her tears at bay was her main concern.

The moment the doors of the Great Hall closed behind her, something seemed to crack inside Rolanda's chest, forcing the urge to run until dawn arrived to pulse through her veins as she struggled to keep the anguish that she thought she had dealt with so long ago from rising again. This time though, she didn't have a reason to escape; there was no reason to run from the lies and the whispers - everything was coming to a close. Taking a deep breath to still her flight instincts, she kept her head down and made her way back to her dormitory- not even bothering to alert someone to the chaos Peeves was causing in one of the classrooms.

All throughout her life, Rolanda had been plagued by the whispers about her failed inheritance. Her father's unique Metamorphmagus ability had been handed down from generation to generation for so many years, but had come to a rather abrupt halt with her. It was obvious to her even if people didn't whisper about it, all she had to do was look in the mirror; her hawk like eyes were the remnants of her genetic 'failure'.

Despite her father being found with traces of neurological distress, which was a highly plausible sign of being _Imperiused_, there was no other evidence to support that theory; and so when it was found that he had ingested poison, the pure-bloods immediately took this as suicide- a sure sign of Adrian's deep shame of producing an offspring that failed to inherit such deeply ingrained ancestral magic.

For nine years she and her mother had withstood such slander, so painful to their ears. They'd spent the duration reminding themselves that _they_ knew the truth, _they_ knew how much Adrian Demetrious Hooch had loved his wife and daughter, and repeating it to themselves that it was all that mattered. Nine years they lived of knowing her father's murderer was still at large, that justice hadn't been done and that someone, somewhere, had gotten away with taking his life. And throughout that time, Rolanda had lived without a father to help her cope; a father who had seemingly left his daughter to fend for herself. Her mother had tried the best she could to shield her from it all, but there was only so much a single working mother could do and Uncle Peter had his own life as well. Rolanda still spent the better part of her life pretending that nothing was wrong, keeping her mind distracted from the hurt she seemed to feel more keenly every day. She was sure that if it wasn't for Quidditch she wouldn't have got to where she was today - at times it had been the only way for her to cope.

While she really was overjoyed that her father's murder may finally be resolved, there was also dread building in her stomach. She was worried about what her mother was going to do when she found out who the murderer was. Xiomara was so committed to clearing her husband's name and seeking justice that to this day she refused to think about seeking another partner, even though her daughter was now in Hogwarts and practically engaged herself.

_She'll want to go after the murderer... she and Uncle Peter. They might end up in Azkaban, or worse, dead. _Rolanda bit her lip, muffling the whimper trying to escape as her strides faltered. She leaned against the wall, her body resting against the cold stonework for a moment in an attempt to collect herself, fighting the spontaneous tears.

_They'll leave me all alone..._

"Great heavens, dear girl," Rolanda jolted up right at the sound of the Fat Lady's voice, "I do not think I have ever seen you cry in your whole six years here."

Sucking in a shaky breath, the hawk-eyed witch wiped at the cascading droplets. "Will o' the wisp," she muttered, refusing to the look at the portrait as she waited for entry.

"Are you not going to indulge me on what's got you all teary?"

Rolanda glared angrily at the portrait as she stalked closer. "I gave you the password, Fat Lady, now open up!"

"Oh all right, all right, no need to get snappy."

The portrait swung open, and Rolanda ran inside and up to her dormitory. She knelt down next to her bed and reached underneath, pulling out her secret keeper box. Sitting down on the duvet covers, her shaking began to come to a halt ease and her heartbeat slowed a little.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" she whispered to no one in particular, her fingers tracing the edges of the box. "Hi Dad."

The box opened up, revealing a softly lined felt interior containing multiple pictures. Rolanda carefully picked up a portrait photograph of her father, leaning back on the bed and holding the picture up, studying his features. She had everything memorized, the shape of his eyes, the set of his mouth and yet it never seemed to be enough. It bothered her that she sometimes would forget in her mind what his voice sounded like, how his hugs and kisses felt; how he smelled. She had once confided this to her mother just a few years ago. Xiomara had held her daughter close, on the brink of tears herself, softly rocking Rolanda while whispering, _"These things happen when someone has been gone for too long, dear. I wish there was a way to stop it, but there isn't. It's something that naturally occurs, even if you don't want it to..."_

Finally Rolanda let the impending tears roll down her face uninterrupted as she sat up and carefully switched the picture for another, one where her father, mother and her younger self were playing in a park. Her father spun her around, and in the very back of her mind she could almost hear the laughter from all three, before her parents embraced her and kissed her cheeks.

"_...but there is something that cannot be forgotten. That love you felt will never leave you."_

And her mother was right. That bond that had formed over the seven short years hadn't waned. No matter how much pretending or how many false illusions she had imagined as a young girl, it never left.

"Mum says the Nightingales found the evidence," she spoke through her tears, holding the photo in hands that began to shake again as her throat hardened. "They're still looking for who did it, but she's confident they'll know soon..."

She broke down as soft cries and shallow gasps began to take her. "I'm worried, Dad. I'm worried about what Mum's going to do. If the Untergang really has been hiding the culprit then they're probably somewhere in Europe or Russia... if Mum decides to go after him..." New tears splashed off long lashes. "I don't want to lose her!"

She knew this wasn't going to solve anything, but her father's spirit was listening and that's all that mattered.

"Are you watching, Dad? Are you worried, just as I am?" Rolanda took a deep, shuddering breath, placing the photo back in the box and closing it. "She won't stop until this is over, and Merlin, I _want_ it to be over... I want her to move on, to have a life again other than me and her brother... but she can't do that unless your killer's captured or dead."

She pulled the covers back and crept into bed, her broken whimpers fading as exhaustion began to sneak up on her. Augusta would probably be back soon, then Minerva later after her Animagus Studies and finally Poppy once she finished her Prefect patrol.

"Gods, please help Mum," she prayed, wiping the moisture from her face before closing her eyes. She suddenly felt the bed dip slightly as a creature jumped up to greet her, mighty purr. Rolanda shifted, hawk-like eyes meeting blue cat orbs just before the feline nudged his head against her cheek and a wet, sandpaper-like tongue gently grazed her skin.

A quick smile touched her lips. "You really are one of a kind, cat."

Mico responded with a quick meow, then curled his body against her chest, his warmth comforting Rolanda and sending her to sleep.

* * *

><p>Had Rolanda's departure from the Great Hall not occurred, Minerva reasoned she would be in a better mood. After Poppy harshly told Mikail off for being concerned- something the wizard didn't seem very affected by -the apprentice healer left for the Hospital wing. It was then that Minerva felt her mirror pulse in her pocket, and immediately looked up to see Galatea walking towards the teacher's exit. Quickly deciding to meet with the professor, Minerva excused herself from the table and left the hall.<p>

She found Galatea under a nearby archway, gazing off into the night sky with a bemused expression on her face that did not break until the Gryffindor gently touched her arm. The professor turned her head to face her, and from the sparkle in Galatea's eyes, it seemed that all the troubled thoughts disappeared from her mind.

"Hello, darling," the professor murmured softly. "Forgive me, I was miles away."

"Is there something wrong?" Minerva whispered, concern ebbing her voice.

"No, well, not yet at least. I will know that answer after Helena returns, which will hopefully be tonight instead of tomorrow morning if I can manage to convince the healers." Her gaze flickered to the moon again. "However, I am also very worried about _Sgiath,_ and whether he will even be alive after tomorrow."

The Gryffindor blinked, she hadn't expected that. "What's happening?"

"He is on the front lines again, helping _Dubhadh_ [Eclipse] take his predecessor's position and aiding the North Asian and Eastern European groups in a high risk operation." Galatea shook her head. "If they pull it off, the Nazi presence in Stalingrad will fall."

"You're joking! I thought the Sixth Guard and the Red Army had nearly taken over the city?"

"Oh they have, but it seems they are ill equipped for the winter, and the Soviets have a plan- one that the Untergang will ruin if they are not defeated." Galatea let out a long sigh, the condensation of her breath visible in the moonlight, before her gaze re-connected with Minerva's once more. "How is Miss Hooch?"

"I'm..." green eyes narrowed, recalling the emotions that had flooded their connection from the hawk-eyed witch before it was shut off, "not sure. She was upset."

Galatea bobbed her head. "I can empathise, that sort of news is never easy. Will you reassure her that we are doing everything we can to find him?"

The passion in the professor's eyes spoke of her own desire to find Mr Hooch's murderer, and warmed Minerva's heart. "Of course."

"Good." A short-lived smile touched Galatea's lips. "About last night, I discovered some information about the knife. There should be a letter addressed to you on Professor Dumbledore's desk regarding what was discovered, as well as a few other things." She pulled back her glove, studying her watch. "Darling, I only have a few minutes before I must depart- was there anything you did not get the chance to ask yesterday before we ended our patrol?"

Minerva's expression soured slightly. It was now or never, and she really did need to alert Galatea to it anyhow.

"Not really a question," she mumbled as she Summoned her mother's letter from her satchel. "You might want to read this, though."

Galatea eyed her curiously, before quickly taking out her spectacles and began reading. As she neared the end, her long fingers were pressed against the paper so tightly that Minerva was surprised it didn't rip.

"_Cionnas_ [How]..._?_" the elder witch breathed through her teeth, glaring at the parchment as if she wished it to burst into flames. The green-eyed witch watched her take a deep breath before abruptly folding it back up and returning it to Minerva. "_Leig do màthair gu mise_ [Leave your mother to me]!"

Minerva's eyes widened at the tone. "What are you going to do?"

Galatea removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, as she breathed deeply.

"Merlin, I do nae know. She is working so many angles in that letter..." she whispered, her hands dropped to her hips as she began pacing. "I cannae react to it, that is what she wants- 'tis a test for me, just as much as you." Galatea turned sharply on her heel, looking at Minerva but seemingly beyond as well. "How the bloody hell did she find out about your _'abnormal activities'_?"

"I wondered that myself," Minerva confessed with a shrug. "Augusta and Pomona thought it might be Professor Slughorn looking after my best interests, but I don't agree with them."

"Nor do I," the elder witch explicated. "Professor Slughorn would never do such a thing. Maybe at one time he would have, but not now... nor would Rominara for that matter."

"_What's gotten into yeh, Izzy?" _The conversation between Rominara and her mother on Halloween echoed through Minerva's mind. _"Years ago yeh would have sent yer children away forever if there was a threat, now ye're willingly takin' yer youngest son into more danger than before!"_

The Gryffindor bit her lip, suppressing the inclination to ask her guardian about her growing suspicions regarding Isobel's mental stability. _All her close friends are drifting away as well, they're realising that she's changing._

She swallowed, forcing her thoughts away. Galatea probably wouldn't be able to answer her question yet, anyway. "So who would?"

The elder witch closed her eyes, lowering her head as her shoulders sank, her Scottish brogue becoming thick. "_Chan eil fhios agam _[I do not know]. I cannae think of anyone that would know about- unless..." Galatea sniffed sharply, crystal eyes suddenly snapping open with a dangerous look. "I wonder..."

"Wonder what?"

"Ask Professor Dumbledore to inform his _goat_ of a brother that I will be visiting him in two days' time."

Minerva tilted her head to the side. "Brother?"

"Aberforth Dumbledore, he is the bartender at Hog's Head- 'tis not important." Galatea decreased distance between them. "I need to leave, as do you. I am sure you have a thousand more questions to ask, but please be patient- write them down if you need to, though make sure no one else can read them." Minerva's eyes flickered to the hand gently reaching out towards her, tucking a stray ebony lock behind her ear. "We will have more time later, _leannan_ [sweetheart], after things settle down a little."

The Gryffindor caught her mentor's hand as it began to retract, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I understand, Galatea, and good luck getting Helena back."

"Thank you," she chuckled. "I think I will need it."

* * *

><p>Once Minerva finally arrived at her Animagus Studies class, she was disappointed to find that Fawkes was nowhere to be found. She had asked Professor Dumbledore if he had seen the elusive phoenix, only be told that the bird had left not too long ago. In truth, Minerva should have known better than to hope Fawkes would be present when she arrived, especially after the gift he had given her yesterday. She wasn't entirely sure how crazy the notion was, but she was beginning to wonder if he had only given her the scale to prevent her from giving up, but was determined not to answer her questions to let her discover the mystery on her own.<p>

Thanking her Transfiguration Professor for informing her, Minerva left for his office, collecting Galatea's letter as she dropped her bag at the desk before moving to the window, sitting on the sill so she could read it better in the light.

_Darling,_

_I hope to have the chance to speak with you before you read this, if anything to help calm my nerves. Ask me about it later, if we have not spoken of it yet. I cannot, or at least should not, write about it here. I expect I shall be dreadfully busy today and tomorrow, and I apologize in advance if we do not get the chance to speak until after the game this weekend._

_Firstly, I want to praise you for catching that damn owl. Not only was the knife poisoned, but it was also heavily cursed. Had you not sensed it in time, Miss Macnair would have likely been incapacitated or even permanently scarred if she had touched it- and I shudder to think of what that would have done to Jordan and his wife. They are having a hard enough time as it is, dealing with who Walden has become._

_Secondly, Christmas presents are traditionally supposed to be kept a secret, but I feel that you should be made aware of this one, if only so you can plan your cover story and further your studying with Transfiguring disguises on your body as we will be using them. I would like to take you to Diagon Alley on December 21st to get a few things, but primarily to find you a second wand. I would rather not have a repeat of what happened with Avrenim, regardless of your talent with wandless magic. Duelling with a wand is much more efficient._

_Lastly, I will be meeting with Evangeline Orpington next week, provided that nothing comes up in the meantime. I am not sure how much you may have gathered by my words last night, but I had sincerely hoped you would ask for your medical records to find something in particular; something that I have no doubt has been censored. I may not be able to outright tell you what you need to know, but that does not mean that I, or even Helena, cannot steer you towards it._

_Tha gaol agam ort,  
>GNM<em>

Minerva blinked a few times, partially curious at what Galatea's middle name could be, but mainly bewildered by the rest of the contents of the letter. Learning just how dangerous the knife she intercepted had been sent shivers down her spine. Not only would it have been hard on the Macnair's, but it would have added another set of problems for Galatea and the school which certainly weren't needed. However, even with that taken into consideration, Minerva could not help but smile softly. The idea of going to Diagon Alley with her mentor was highly appealing, even if it meant she was probably going to go through another dozen wands at Ollivanders, but at least she'd know what to expect. Combined with this, and along with her gift idea for Helena, she could honestly say that she hadn't been this excited about the Christmas holidays since she was a young child. Yet these weren't the sole reasons for her smile. Galatea was truly trying in the best way that she could to aid her in- what seemed to be -her never ending quest for answers, and the fact that she had included Helena in her statement made it clear that it really was all right to ask both of them without fear of a possible backlash.

The witch sighed, folding the letter and then slipped it into her already full school bag as she returned to the desk, and then pulled out her notebook. As she sat down and prepared to jot down all she knew of her mother, her scholarly-self was silently reprimanding her for the fact she was working on a personal assignment during class instead of productively studying for her winter exams or working on essays, but just for this once she didn't care. She was only half joking to herself when she thought that she could probably write a research paper on her mother and get full marks if she really put her mind to it.

She began her list with what would normally be a relatively easy fact to remember; her mother's birth date. However, unless the information had been tampered with at some point, Minerva was quite positive that whenever she had asked, the true answer had never been given. In fact, she was quite sure that Isobel had once told her that it wasn't important.

Narrowing her eyes, Minerva began to gather all the hints and clues she could remember. While she knew her mother's astral activated in 1911 from the records and that it was common for astrals to be activated when the witch or wizard reaches twelve or thirteen, that didn't necessarily mean Isobel's had. It took her several moments of reminiscing before she finally remembered that Professor Dumbledore mentioned that her mother had been in her seventh year when he started teaching, which- as long as there wasn't anything out of the ordinary with when Isobel started at Hogwarts -meant that her mother had to have been born in either 1899 or 1900, and was currently forty-two or forty-three years old. She then wrote down the first infuriating question that came to mind after this: why was her mother's birth date so important that it had to be kept hidden? She was tempted to contemplate answers to this, but in the end decided not to, knowing she'd likely get nowhere.

Instead, Minerva considered Isobel's early life before Hogwarts. Thanks to Professor Slughorn, she knew that her mother did not have a happy childhood and she got the impression that Tradisi had been a mother from hell- not just because she had wanted her granddaughter dead, but also because of how _wrong _the witch had seemed during the single visit that Minerva remembered from her. Adding Sinium, Isobel's father, into the equation she realised that Isobel's relationship with her parents was similar to Minerva's. If she were honest, it bothered her a little. Surely if Isobel hated her mother so much, she would do her best not to end up like her? She shook her head.

_I guess not._

The next topic was her mother's life as a student in Hogwarts. Isobel had been a year behind Slughorn, and if Minerva's judgement was sound, then her mother had also been good friends with Madam Rominara, Ms Hooch, as well as Poppy's parents. Now that she knew when her mother attended Hogwarts, she could be certain that Galatea had not just been Isobel's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, but also her Head of House. This only increased Minerva's ideas about how much Galatea and Helena had been involved in Isobel's life during her time at Hogwarts. It was clear that all three witches were very close at one point. Minerva's thoughts continued to churn and she found that she had to concentrate as little snippets of conversations began to slip into her mind.

_Slughorn mentioned that Màthair had been a 'lively witch' after her first year,_ _and Helena said that Màthair began to drift away __**after**__ Hogwarts. Their relationship __**must**__ have been the reason that all began to change... but what happened to make it improve? What did Galatea do to help? _She mused over Galatea's words about Tradisi, how much she had despised the mad witch, and the puzzle began to click into place;_ Galatea provided Màthair love when Tradisi tried to deprive her of it._

While the idea seemed valid, it was also terribly tragic that Galatea was now doing the same for Minerva. Suddenly the pained, sorrowful looks from both of her guardians shook her reality to the core as it dawned upon her what they must have been thinking, fearing, hoping... seeing the comparison of Minerva and Isobel in their minds.

_But what had prompted that love to grow between Galatea, Helena and Isobel, and what on earth had happened to make their separation so devastating?_

Yet again, she was surrounded by more questions than she could possibly ever document, let alone ask her mentor; such as what Galatea did to make Isobel so controlling when it came to Minerva's own relationship with Galatea, and why would Isobel not want them to have a relationship in the first place?

If the mental disorder she believed her mother had was dismissed from the picture, then nothing about her behaviour made sense. The three witches had been unquestionably close before whatever disagreement had happened. So, how could Isobel even ask them to 'pretend' that the years between them never happened; and furthermore, how could Galatea still have nice things to say about Isobel, but not Helena, who was without a doubt the more forgiving of the two?

Ultimately, it all rested on the mental disorder, whatever it may be and if it _was_ accounted for, then many aspects of her mother's behaviour began to form some sort of logic. Minerva couldn't help but question whether it was the mental disorder that her mother was keeping quiet about, or something else. If magical instability ran in the family, which she was sure it did, then this mental disorder was very likely to as well, and then there was the fact that Isobel had deliberately kept silent about herself and her family's past.

Then something else struck her mind. Helena, as head matron during Isobel's time at Hogwarts, would surely have known if there was a mental disorder even if she hadn't been informed. Therefore, she was certain that the pair must be aware of any such infliction... _If it exists, that is._

Minerva exhaled a shaky, frustrated breath, taking a few moments to quell her thoughts as she suddenly began to feel overwhelmed by the whole situation.

Inhale.

Exhale.

_Even if it doesn't, then why would Màthair still have guardians when she's far past the age of majority? _Her eyes fluttered opened as a single thought suddenly coursed through her mind. _Galatea never answered my question._

It suddenly didn't matter _why_, but rather more importantly, _who_ were her guardians. Galatea and Helena were strong possibilities, as was Robert- if that had been allowed at that time. The Ministry's legal system was only _just_ beginning to make adjustments for the witches and wizards who married Muggles, not to mention the social changes that were still being implemented.

Minerva pursed her lips as she wrote down 'Engagement and Marriage', sensing her thoughts drifting towards it anyway. Like her birthdate, her mother had kept silent about when the anniversary of her marriage was. As a child, she had been quite used to the idea that her parents did things differently from most households, and she hadn't really pondered why her parents never did anything to celebrate it. A prestigious pure-blood who carried the sole weight of her lineage and married a Muggle... well, that sort of thing caused a large enough scandal nowadays that many witches and wizards feared doing such a thing- twenty or so years ago and the situation would have undoubtedly been worse. Then there was Tradisi to consider, and if her ravings were anything to go by, she had probably been furious, not to mention that Isobel had turned her back on the family tradition to have her husband take on his wife's surname.

It troubled Minerva even more that Sinium had never been mentioned. She could understand Tradisi having met her - however briefly -but if Sinium had truly loved his daughter, and Isobel had loved him, then why never mention him? The only explanation was that his murder must have severely traumatised and scarred her.

'_Sinium Viridian-Ross died in June 1925',_ she wrote._ 'Màthair 25/26, pregnant, devastated.'_

She paused for a moment, mulling over a possible murder motive and why Galatea was unable to speak her suspicions of who the murderer was, when a few other things seemingly clicked into place. Tradisi had wanted her dead, for example, so what was stopping such a mad woman- who clearly resented her daughter for marrying a Muggle -from ruining her life further? It wasn't inconceivable to her that Isobel might have been connected to her father, and if so, then she would have felt his murder keenly, likely increasing the odds of miscarriage tenfold during such emotional and physical trauma. It also could have been a reasonable cause for her premature birth.

Yet, there was one problem with this; if Tradisi had killed her husband, then wouldn't Isobel have known? If both of these ideas were true, then why would her mother even allow Tradisi to enter the Manor, let alone be around her children? _But she hadn't, not really- I can't even remember when she visited me as a toddler. And she more or less burst into the Manor uninvited when we did see her..._

That day was also something that Minerva had agonised over. So many things had happened at once, that her youthful perspective had focused solely on the fact that Tradisi wanted Isobel to kill her only daughter, and not the other major incident which occurred. Tradisi Ross had died that very night of a 'heart attack'- something quite odd for a witch without white hair and from such a strong family bloodline - and the more she thought about the situation, the more incomprehensible it became.

Minerva remembered back to the day that had changed her life, when Isobel received the letter with the morning owls, becoming rather upset and fleeing from her husband's arms. She had reappeared some time later, explaining she was off to the market, before returning to the Manor a few hours later, promptly disappearing again where she remained hidden until the moment before Tradisi arrived on the doorstep. There was then the troubling issue of Isobel and Robert disappearing with the boys and leaving Minerva alone with the mad woman- almost as if it her mother had planned it.

_Màthair knew I was in Gryffindor, but didn't tell Tradisi. Why the bloody hell didn't she tell her, it could have prevented the whole thing from blowing out of proportion! If she didn't want... wait, it's possible that she could have wanted to kill Tradisi, to take revenge for trying to ruin her life; murdering her father, attempting to murder me not to mention whatever hell she put Màthair through as a girl._

The McGonagall's never went to Tradisi's funeral. Isobel hadn't even acted upset at the fact that her mother had passed, and in fact, she had done just about everything to put on the impression that the only thing that mattered to her was that her daughter had run away even though she had made little fuss over it.

The scared little girl still inside her thought the idea was ridiculous, but her mature, rational mind was beginning to ponder that maybe- just maybe -her mother had never wanted to kill her, that she had intended for everything to happen just as it did... _But why did she wait so damn long to get rid of her? And if she really did care, why is she acting so blooming heartless towards everyone else now?_ Her eyes narrowed. _If she really does have a mental disorder, then there probably isn't a reason…_

"Thinking about something in particular, my dear?"

Minerva jumped out of her chair at the unmistakable sound her Transfiguration Professor's voice, whirling around to face him. Her senses had told her to expect that he was nearby, but she hadn't been prepared for him to be quite _that_ close- not that she minded, the moment her eyes met his, her mind seemed to calm, if only for a moment.

"Sorry, Professor," she breathed shakily, "I didn't notice you were here."

"That's quite all right, Minerva." The corners of his lips twitched. "Would you like to tell me what's captured your thoughts this evening?"

"Several things, Sir," the witch leaned against the desk behind her, closing her personal notebook with a wave of her hand. "Did Galatea tell you about last night's knife incident?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "She mentioned something about Miss Macnair's brother sending a rather _unwelcome_ present."

_That's an understatement,_ she thought grimly as she slowly bobbed her head.

"But that's not what is troubling you, is it?" he asked after her silence, causing Minerva's gaze to falter.

"No, Professor," she whispered while crossing her arms around her middle. "Do you remember when I came back from the holidays, my first year?"

"How could I forget? It's not everyday that a student asks me if their mother could kill someone."

If it hadn't been such a serious topic, Minerva might have smirked, but instead a sad smile found its place.

"I fear my perception may have been twisted by my fear. I have re-analysed several aspects of that day, my màthair's life, of her parents, and I am starting to believe that despite what she told Tradisi, she was never going to kill me- not then."

"You weren't entirely delusional..." The professor blanched as his voice trailed off.

"Pardon?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "When your overload was starting to build within your system, you argued against Professor Merrythought about your mother and stated that she had wanted you dead. You more or less asked her if she had tried to kill Isobel, accused her of poisoning your mother's mind, and then believed that_ she_ was the one who destroyed your chances of having a caring mother- instead of Tradisi."

A pinched expression took her face. "On what evidence?"

"To be honest, nothing rational. After she said _'màthair'_ instead of mother, everything spiralled out of control. You were quite delusional by that stage."

Minerva was very glad she didn't have anything in her hands, as it would have dropped to the floor when the sudden realisation of why Galatea had been suppressing her Gaelic, hit her hard. _She feared I'd make the same accusations and hate her again... Gods, I yelled at her for that!_

The witch brought her hand up to her mouth as guilt coursed through her. She swallowed hard and let out a deep sigh as she shook her head. When a warm hand clasped her upper arm, Minerva looked up, her gaze once again becoming transfixed upon her professor.

"Take a seat, my dear."

She obeyed, silently grateful for his compassion, something he seemed to have endless amounts of when it came to her. He sat down in the chair opposite her, almost replicating their last Occlumency lesson.

"Professor," Minerva raised her voice, bringing it out of the previous whisper as her thoughts drew her back to the present, "what happened that day, after things went badly with Galatea?"

The twinkle in his eyes dulled at the memory. "You ran, all the way to the bridge. Professor Merrythought forced herself to stay on the sidelines to prevent you from becoming more enraged, while I went to stop you. I managed to bring some sense of rationality to your mind, and we began to walk back to my office when things took a turn for the worse." The wizard shuddered. "Your Animagus ability began fighting your mind and you entered rapid and agonizing transformations. When I cast the Anti-Transformation charm upon you, it took most of your consciousness with it."

Minerva blinked, her lips pursing subconsciously. It was so _odd_, hearing him relay an event that happened to her but that she had no recollection of, and yet the emotions within him, shining from his eyes, was all it took to believe him unconditionally. She saw the fear that had been there as he had watched her body physically tear itself apart and heard her screams of pain; she had no doubt that it was something that would still trouble him.

"I quickly carried you back to my office, and soon after that, your mother arrived. I was initially against Mrs McGonagall seeing you, given your already traumatized state and your anger towards her, but Professor Merrythought was quite insistent. She and your mother believed that there was something... _else..._ wrong, that it wasn't an overload that occurred."

A feeling of dread came over her, twisting her stomach as she suddenly began to feel sick. "_What_ was it then?"

"I have no idea if what she said is accurate, but Isobel believed that your grandmother, Tradisi, placed a block upon your magic- without her knowledge -when you were young, after you displayed an incredible power of some kind." Professor Dumbledore paused, no doubt trying to gauge her reaction. "I have no idea if what she said was accurate, but Galatea believed it, especially after having seen your markings burn through your robes and the way your eyes were so calm." He sighed tiredly, sinking into the chair a little. "I do know that such a sign is not usually associated with overloads, neither is the amount of memory loss you suffered, but truly, it's only conjecture."

_Avrenim._ She was the only explanation to what that 'power' had been, back when she was small. But how had Tradisi managed to do such a thing without Isobel knowing about it? More importantly, how had Tradisi found out about Avrenim's activation, why had she felt the need to place a block on her granddaughter's magic, and also, why had she wanted her dead? Now, the argument that Tradisi murdered Sinium was far more sound; the wicked witch had tried to have her killed at least two times- if not three -before she passed. There was no reason to believe she wouldn't have tried to prevent Minerva from being born.

"Is that surprising to hear?" Dumbledore asked gently.

The witch blinked, bringing her mind back to reality. "I'm not sure there's much that could really surprise me after discovering that my màthair tampered with my memories, Professor. I'm sort of learning to expect the unexpected at this point." Minerva smiled sadly. "What happened next?"

"You..." Dumbledore's eyes clouded and filled with pain and anguish. "Suffice as to say, you were not well. Your mother was rather horrified to see you in such a state, and I think it shocked her to the core until you started speaking. After that it was apparent that _you_ weren't too upset by your mother being there and wanting to help you..." He shifted slightly, as if uncomfortable about the topic, as his expression grew grave. "So, I allowed it, but, in the end I had to leave. There were a few matters that needed to be dealt with and when I got back, Galatea was alone in my classroom and you had been transferred to St. Mungo's in apparently much better health. As for what your mother did to remove the block, though, I wish I knew, my dear."

_I do too_, she wanted to say, but held it back as she leaned forward and placed a hand on her professor's, causing him to look up at her and she found the twinkle in his eyes had returned.

"Thank you for what you did, Professor, and for telling me what happened."

Dumbledore placed his free hand over her own, clasping it gently. She couldn't help but notice how nice his hands felt.

"You don't have to thank me, Minerva."

"I feel I should, though," she admitted without thinking. "I'd likely be dead if it weren't for you."

"Yes, well," the professor's gaze faltered for a heartbeat then returned, and with it a smile, "do try not to make it a habit. Cats only have nine lives, you know."

Minerva chuckled as she stood from her chair, somewhat reluctantly letting her hand slip from between his. "I'll do my best, Professor, but you know how I am. I can never leave well enough alone."

"You most certainly have a knack for it," he laughed with her, standing as she began collecting her things, before voicing his inquiry, "Did you read the note for you on the desk?"

"Oh yes," the witch smiled softly, "Galatea asked me to practice Transfiguring my appearance for the Christmas Holidays. She wants to take me to Ollivanders to get another wand."

"Nothing's happened to your wand, has it?" he asked worriedly.

"No, she's just taking precautions." Minerva paused, searching for a way to inform Professor Dumbledore of her mentor's message. "Sir, Galatea asked me to tell you that she wishes to meet your brother in two days, and if you would be so kind to inform him."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated as if thinking better of his words. "I sincerely hope he hasn't caused you much trouble."

"No more than I can handle, Professor," she reassured, knowing it wouldn't do any good to make him worry unnecessarily. "It may have aggravated my mother, but that seems to be unavoidable these days."

Unfortunately, the professor knew all too well of how manipulative Isobel could be. He stared at her intensely, as if he was searching for an answer. "How _'aggravated'_?"

Minerva suppressed a sigh, deciding it would be best not to pervert the truth. "She threatened to send me to Salem Witches Institute-" his sapphire eyes widened "-but it's an empty threat, really, Professor. She can't do anything."

She watched as he stepped closer, her heart rate climbing, and then even more so when he laid his hand on her arm. "Nevertheless, I've seen what your mother has done to Galatea, Helena, and so many others. Be cautious, Minerva."

Despite his warning, the witch hid a smile. "Thank you, and I'll keep that in mind."

It was only after she left that she finally let her happiness breakthrough. It seemed as though Professor Dumbledore was no longer reluctant in using her first name.

* * *

><p>Mikail was trying to be patient, but patience really wasn't something he could afford right now. He needed an answer, needed to know if he had probable cause to abandon everything he had set out to do.<p>

He shouldn't have told her- shouldn't have told her _anything_. It was too risky and there was too much at stake, but he had no choice. When she pieced most of it together he had been forced to tell her otherwise he risked having to duel her and then be expelled; or worse, be interrogated by Professor Merrythought. Quite honestly, he'd rather kill himself before being subjected to_ that._

Mikail narrowed his eyes, his thoughts contradicting each other. Being tortured by his Transfiguration professor wasn't the only thing on his mind. The tears that glistened in Poppy's eyes that night had held him captive and twisted his gut. He was no fool, he knew that he was responsible for some of her anguish- especially now after what he had done to try to convince her of the truth. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't shocked that she hadn't hexed him for stealing that kiss.

_Maybe she enjoyed it more than I thought,_ he mused for the umpteenth time. _Merlin knows I did. _

He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear his mind. Four days had gone by and there hadn't been a free thought that wasn't about how her breath had mingled with his, or how her lips felt as they moved against his own...

The unmistakable sound of stone walls shifting and metal gates creaking, brought him out of his thoughts as the Room of Requirement allowed the last person he expected- although hoped -to see.

Poppy Pomfrey.

His heartbeat raced as her hazel eyes connected with his and the memory of the kiss flashed through his mind once again. Both of them stopped breathing as time seemed to still. The only indication that seconds had ticked by was the entrance closing behind Poppy- something neither of them noticed. Mikail desperately tried not to focus on how luscious her slightly parted lips where, but it was nearly impossible when her cheeks began to flush and she blinked her long lashes. He tore his eyes away for a moment, long enough for him to finally clear his throat and talk to her.

"I did not think you vould come."

Poppy licked her lips, completely oblivious to his eyes watching her every move or to the restraint he was showing by not moving to her side and taking her in his arms.

_Or maybe she does know, and it's her way of testing me?_ he wondered silently

"To be honest," the witch murmured, "I feel like I have a million voices screaming right now, telling me that I've done the wrong thing."

He suddenly realised that the witch had her wand out, twirling it nervously. Subconsciously, Mikail smiled at the sight. She was always so prepared, so cautious, when most girls he knew would have swooned in his presence. Poppy caught him off guard, surprised him, and challenged him; made him treat her differently to all the other girls he'd ever met. She made Mikail want- and need -to know more about her, to gain her favour and trust. It was exhilarating, he'd never felt like that before.

"You do not need to vorry, Poppy, I have no vand." Mikail showed her his empty hands in the universal sign that he was unarmed, standing quite still in an effort to show her he wasn't going to try anything.

"I didn't think you would go back on your word," she admitted softly, her eyes lowering to the floor, "but I didn't want to take any chances."

"I cannot blame you for that." Against his better judgement, Mikail stepped closer to her. Hazel orbs flickered back towards him and the thought of lifting her chin- having his fingers caress her soft skin -crossed his mind, but he rejected it instantly. "Have you come to a decision?"

"No," the tremor in her voice was becoming more evident as he drew nearer, "not yet. There has been much going on and it's only been four days."

Mikail tilted his head, still listening, but focussing on resisting the longing to tuck a stray wisp of her russet hair behind her ear.

"Vhat is vrong, Poppy?" he asked in little more than a whisper, then added, "Other than me."

The witch's shoulders seemed to sink to the floor as she sighed. "A lot of things- many of which I really shouldn't talk about with you, yet."

Her hazel eyes strayed down slightly as she bit her lower lip- tucking it in where her tongue was no doubt touching, causing Mikail to close his eyes and swallow hard, trying not to think of how it would feel if it were his own lips. "I understand your caution-"

"Do you?"

Mikail breathed in sharply, resisting the urge to ensnare her mouth, to stop her from talking and make her realise that he wasn't lying- but he knew it would have the exact opposite effect. Poppy would believe he was trying to force her into believing the 'truth' and he'd lose what little foundation of trust he had gained. Mikail _needed_ her to keep him informed of what was happening, he couldn't do his job right if she didn't.

"Yes," he finally spoke, meeting her stern gaze once again- a gaze that made him want to tell her _more._ "Merlin, Poppy, it vas hard enough for me to tell you vhat I already have! Don't you understand vhat vill happen if _they_ find out?"

"Of course I do!" she hissed, taking a step closer. "Just... please, give me some more time. There's been _so_ much happening as of late that I'm still trying to deal with it all, not to mention process what to-" Poppy paused for a heartbeat, "-_think_ about you."

She surprised him, reaching out and touching his hand, the pads of her fingers brushing over his palm before gently clamping around it, causing his mind to lose all thought.

"I won't say anything to anyone before I decide," Poppy spoke in a reassuring whisper, "I couldn't."

Mikail struggled to keep his control, tightening his grip on her hand as his gaze darkened. "Yes you could, and still _can_."

Poppy shook her head, her russet locks swaying. "No, that would be jeopardizing lives. I'm training to be a healer, not a killer."

As if she was suddenly aware of how close they were, she took a step backwards and checked her watch. "I really should be going. Prefect patrol will start soon, and you should get back to the common room before curfew."

As Poppy moved towards the- now open-entrance, Mikail spoke again, stopping her before she could leave completely. "Be careful."

She paused for a moment, drawing in a quivering breath, before an amused smile teased her lips. "I'm not very good at that any more."

* * *

><p><strong>If anyone's interested in seeing the actual list Minerva made, check my website for "Minerva's List" under Insider's Look for the website file. <strong>

**A bit of warning: I have finals coming up soon, so there might be another delay.**

****Happy Thanksgiving everyone! **  
>~LinK<strong>


	40. Steps of Suspicion

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

~By Your Side, Tenth Avenue North

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Goodness, it's been a while! My betas and I have been terribly busy over the holidays, so apologizes. Happy 2013 everyone and enjoy the update! :D

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 34 - Steps of Suspicion<strong>

**November 19th, 1942:**

The day had finally arrived and Minerva, Rolanda and Poppy had never been so anxious to get to breakfast early. They did their best to wait until it was acceptable for students to be out of their common rooms, but when they arrived in the Great Hall, a surprising number of faculty members were already present. Everyone was patiently waiting for the same thing and it seemed evident to to Minerva that the two empty seats the head table were the reason behind the anticipation.

Before long, she was proven right. Two older witches walked through the big doors, much to the delight of the people already in the Hall. All smiles were wide as nearly every staff member stood up upon their entrance; the light in their eyes clearly broadcasting their happiness, but it all paled in comparison to Galatea's grin as she trailed with Helena, who was a little slower with her cane. Professor Dumbledore was the first to welcome the matron back, drawing Helena into a tight embrace while being mindful of her injury. The Headmaster soon followed, Professor Slughorn and several other teachers all expressing words of relief and happiness to see her back in the castle again.

The rest of the students began filing in, and the reunion was cut short as everyone took their seats. Minerva watched out of the corner of her eye as Galatea sat down, cautiously glancing at Helena in case she needed help. The Defensive Arts professor certainly seemed happier, but Minerva couldn't help but notice the nervousness radiating off her. The green-eyed witch scanned the table before her, witnessing Poppy's grin fade and her body tense as Mikail scooted closer to her.

"Vhat happened to Madam Nurix?" he asked.

When Poppy bowed her head and kept silent, Minerva knew it would do no good to keep silent.

"Well usually when someone has a cane, Mikail, it is likely that they've sustained _quite_ an injury," she quipped.

"Her injury vasn't the only thing I vas referring too, Minerva, but her mysterious, and repeatedly unexplained, absence as well," he retorted before turning to Poppy once more. "So you don't know anything?"

Poppy's eyes narrowed and she turned her head to glare at him. "If you're so concerned, Lutrov, you should ask her yourself. I'm her apprentice, not her secretary."

"Fair enough." Mikail shrugged, dropping the subject for the time being and began to fill his plate with a few more sausages. Minerva pursed her lips at his behaviour.

_Was that a little suspicious Min?_ Rolanda queried, her thoughts sounding a bit sombre.

_Maybe a little, _she replied. _He does seem a little more inquisitive than usual. _

_You can't really blame him for drawing correlations, though, _Rolanda mused. _Our absences and all the odd behaviour during the past week doesn't help, I'm sure. It doesn't take a Seer to think we might know something._

Minerva bobbed her head at that, dipping her soldier thoughtfully in her egg. _You have a point._

Conversation was sparse after the terse words, save for the odd giggle from Augusta as Kevin whispered in her ear. When the post came Minerva returned her focus to the staff table. It was not easy for her to miss how tense Galatea seemed, or the hand that Helena placed over the older witch's clenched fist. Minerva watched as the matron leaned over, whispering something to Galatea that made the professor's expression relax.

Trying not to appear as if she was spying on them, Minerva occupied herself with her food, casting quick glances up at the staff table when she could. Watching as Helena reach for a letter on the table that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and she wondered if an elf had delivered it and why it was too risky to send by Owl Post. Minerva could conclude from the grin on Helena's face that it was very good news, though, and that was good enough for her.

"Who's ready for today's Defence Against the Dark Arts quiz?" Augusta asked, breaking the silence. "And Min, don't answer that, we all know your answer is a _'yes'_ even if you don't think so."

Glancing at the head table again, Minerva watched as Galatea leaned over to read the letter over Helena's shoulder, who also smiled at the letter's contents.

"Actually this time, I think I'm more than ready, Gusta," she replied, unafraid to hide the happiness she felt as she glanced at her friend.

Even though Galatea was undoubtedly worried about Gregor, whatever was written in Helena's letter had made her smile publicly for the first time in a long while. Minerva couldn't wait until she had time to spend with them and ask the many questions that last night had fuelled.

* * *

><p>Pomona sighed as she watched her Gryffindor friends from afar; it was on days like these that she sometimes wished the Sorting Hat hadn't placed her in Hufflepuff. The reason for her melancholy was simple. Usually she'd be sitting with Hestia, but for now at least, she was unable to, and she didn't have the courage to asked Hestia why they weren't speaking any more.<p>

Aside from the Gryffindor girls, Hestia was one of her best friends and the only witch who hadn't fawned over the flowers that continued to arrive in the post. She had agreed that they were beautiful flowers, and that they looked pretty when they were in her hair, but she never giggled and teased Pomona about it like the other Hufflepuff girls did. Hestia was one of the few people she confided in; shared her worries and fears with. She understood and comforted her when she needed it, had been a shoulder to cry on, and Pomona knew that Hestia was a very special witch who was still dear to her, despite their slowly collapsing friendship. It hurt to go up to their dormitory at night and not hear a cheerful greeting nor feel the warmth of her embrace.

When the post came, so did a flower, but instead of placing it in her hair as usual, Pomona Vanished it into non-being.

"You're not going to wear it?" Dugald McPhail asked from across the table with a look a surprise. He'd been a good friend to her lately, partnering with her when Hestia started distancing herself.

"No."

"Shame," he frowned sadly, "whoever is sending you these is putting a lot of effort into it."

She huffed. "Yeah right, you mean a lot of effort went into confusing me."

"What do you mean?"

Pomona sighed, her gaze drifting towards Hestia who had yet to even looked at her. She was talking with Petalson again and despite the smile, she had a sombre look on her face and had hardly touched her breakfast.

"Never you mind."

"Patience, Pomona," Dugald wrapped an arm around her and gave her a quick squeeze, "she'll come around."

"She might not," Pomona muttered, lowering her head. "I don't even know what happened, if I did something... I just want to know why she's acting like this Dugald, but she's not talking!"

She took a deep breath, blinking a few times as she willed the tears back. She got up from her seat causing whispers to break out all the way down the table. Pomona tried her best not to listen to them. She already had a good idea about what was being said, but she did catch the odd comment as she tried to leave the Hall without crying.

Nearing the end of the table where Hestia and Petalson sat, she caught her friend glancing up in her direction, but when she didn't look away, Pomona stopped in her tracks and glared at her. It was then that she managed to finally speak the words that had been running through her head for the last couple of weeks.

"Do you have something to say?"

Hestia's brown eyes stayed transfixed on her own, even as her expression became pinched, but she remained mute. Pomona swallowed as she watched her friend's full, pink lips part and she couldn't help but notice that the black-haired witch was still as gorgeous as ever. That thought stung her, deeply.

_You like her, but she wants nothing to do with you any more._

She fled to the first-floor lavatory to try to calm herself and stop the falling tears, needing to compose herself before attending Potions. But when Minerva knocked quietly on the door, smiling sadly, the tears fell in force. The green-eyed witch said nothing, she simply took her in her arms and held her tight.

* * *

><p>After breakfast, Poppy found herself in a rather odd predicament. For the first time this year, she felt completely indifferent about attending her Arithmancy class; she wasn't dreading it as she had done so many times before, but she wasn't entirely looking forward to it either. She had a feeling that Mikail would try to be her partner again, which made her nervous, but also caused her heart to flutter as well. The kiss he had given her was on her mind more than it should be and she noticed it especially when he was around.<p>

Part of her wanted to run straight to Helena, to confess everything and let her mentor decide what she should do. But she also knew that the wrong action could lead to his death, and unless he was lying, Poppy couldn't allow that. She was first and foremost a healer, and abhorred the thought of anyone dying; secondly, if anything happened to him because of something _she_ had said, she wouldn't be able forgive herself. She shuddered at the idea of him being innocent and condemned to death by her word, however, it also made her sick knowing that if she slipped up and it turned out that he _wasn't_ as innocent as he said he was, then Minerva could get killed.

_But if that was the case, surely he would have told the Untergang about Minerva by now and left Hogwarts._ Poppy let out a sigh and her pace slowing as her thoughts took an unintentional turn, making her blush as she wandered the hallways. _He kissed to damn well.  
><em>

"Hello, Poppy." A deep, sensual baritone voice echoed in her ears. "Aren't you going to class?"

Poppy spun around, eyes wide and facing the very same wizard from her most intimate thoughts. "O-Of course!"

"Then ve had better hurry up," Mikail smiled softly as she passed her, "or ve vill be late."

She felt a gentle heat rising in her cheeks as she stood still for a moment, watching him walk away, before the corners of her mouth curved a little and she hurried to follow him. Maybe he was the enemy, maybe he wasn't, but a good healer worked from every angle. Besides, if she got to know him better, then maybe she could form a more accurate picture about his character. And perhaps enjoy herself while she was at it.

* * *

><p>When she opened her eyes, Minerva found herself back in the first floor lavatory and she quickly ducked behind a door while her past-self and a much calmer Pomona walked out. The adrenaline began to fade, but then she felt as if the room was spinning and she immediately steadied herself against the stall's walls. As she waited for the dizziness to stop, she recited where she was. She'd just finished Ancient Studies and was now back at the beginning of her day, seven minutes before her first class instead of seven minutes after.<p>

The Time-Turner effects were beginning to take a toll on her, the dizzy spells and fatigue were becoming much more potent now- a clear sign that she was using the device a little more than she probably should, but that couldn't be helped. She needed to finish the day, do her homework, and hopefully- if he wasn't busy -have a chat with Malcom. Minerva also hoped that she would be able to do the same with Galatea later on, unless the cleverly folded note she'd received after Ancient Studies said otherwise. Having not opened it yet, it could very well be from anyone, but she could have sworn she felt Galatea's presence for just a moment when she snatched the parchment from the air, where it floated quite calmly as if it were waiting for her.

After a few deep breaths and a glance down the corridor to make sure the coast was clear, Minerva left the bathroom as if it was any other normal day. She even began to believe it herself until she noticed several older Slytherin students staring at her as if she had just trampled their tails. Their whispers didn't seem like the usual gossip she was so used to. It was definitely something else- which was all the more obvious when she felt goosebumps creep up her skin and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Returning to the now emptier Great Hall, Minerva scanned for her brother, smiling as she found him sitting at a table next to the fireplace, reading his Herbology book.

"Are you doing anything important?" she asked, as she joined him.

"Shouldn't you be in Ancient Studies?" Malcom queried in lieu of a greeting, cocking his brow.

Minerva smirked. "I was, and currently am."

He stared at her for a moment, the confusion on his face evident over the somewhat complicated riddle, before dropping his suspicion as he put the book down and smiled back at her.

"No, I'm not doing anything important," he replied. "I take it you want to talk about Prof-_ Galatea_?"

A smile also graced her lips at her mentor's name.

"Yes, I do." Minerva sat down across from him, leaning forward so they didn't have to talk too loudly. "How did things go?

"Rather well, I think, with all things considered. It's still going to take me a while to get used to the fact that my Head of House would have, in her words, _'loved'_ to have been a part of our lives had Màthair not refused her."

While she had suspected something of the sort, hearing that she said those words only confirmed to her how close Galatea and Isobel had been at one time.

"Also, you were right; there really is two sides of her." Malcom sighed and shook his head. "Màthair really left Galatea broken, didn't she? I swear, I could almost feel her pain just sitting across from her." He clenched his fists. "I barely know her and I already want to help her, to make up for all those years that she suffered, watching us grow up without her."

Minerva couldn't help but smile sadly as he looked at her earnestly. She placed a hand over his, squeezing gently, trying to ease his tensions. "I know exactly what you mean."

A half smile tugged at his lips as he glanced towards the staff table where Galatea had been seated moments before. "She seemed happier this morning."

"The return of Hel- _Madam Nurix_ is a huge relief to her. But don't let her fool you, Malcom, she has a brother who's out fighting in the war. His life is very much at stake right now, so she's also very worried."

The happiness on Malcom's face faded. "If the war isn't over, you'll be out there fighting when you graduate, won't you?"

"If my Auror training calls for me to be out there, then yes."

The wizard nodded sadly. "Galatea asked what I really wanted, what would make me happy, and I don't think she entirely appreciated the prospect of training another McGonagall for the Aurors when I asked her to train me."

"I think it would be more accurate to say that she fears losing another that she loves," Minerva added soberly.

"I thought that too." The wizard frowned. "I half wish I hadn't said that to her, but I couldn't think of anything else."

"I take it you didn't answer her truthfully, then?"

Malcom gathered his book, suddenly, almost throwing it into his bag.

"No, but that doesn't matter," he growled as he stood, clearly uncomfortable with the topic and wanting to leave. "The truth won't happen," he muttered, turning away.

Minerva reached out, gently clasping her hand around his, hoping he would stay for a few moments longer. "And what is the truth, Malcom? What would make you happy?"

Green eyes stared at her as he opened their connection for a moment to tell her what he could not speak.

_A màthair that actually cares._

Sadly enough, Minerva knew that a small part of still her wished that was true.

_Maybe she had at one time,_ she thought to herself as she watched her brother leave,_ but not any more._

* * *

><p>Galatea's fifth year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students left the classroom with tension resonating between the two houses over Saturday's scheduled match. If it wasn't for the fact that Ravenclaw would be playing, then she wouldn't bother attending the game. There was still so much that needed to be done. Thankfully, most of the chaos <em>Dealg<em> caused was over with and Galatea could, once again, completely focus on the war, protecting Britain, and those closest to her from the Untergang.

Sitting back down at her desk, she got lost in her thoughts. There were times such as now when she seriously questioned her decision to stay at Hogwarts and not get involved in the war until it was absolutely necessary. If it wasn't for Helena, she would have resigned in the summer of 1938, mainly to spare herself the pain of continuing to teach Minerva while pretending she was _just_ another student, but also to help further the efforts in stopping the Untergang from aiding Grindelwald. Helena was the reason for a lot of things in her life and was someone who was evenly important to her as Gregor, Isobel and the McGonagall children. No one mattered more to her than them, including Isobel, despite the despair she continues to cause.

Galatea's finger traced over her desk drawer, and she was tempted to gaze upon the one picture she hadn't been able to part with. Until a few years ago, she would take it out and remind herself of the person Isobel used to be, someone far removed from Tradisi's influence, but now even the idea of looking at it was becoming too painful. The reality was, the Isobel she had once known and loved, was gone.

_But just how much was left?_

Galatea shook her head; she had to stop pondering that question. It only lead to her coming up with ways to try to bring Isobel back, even though she knew in her heart that such a thing wasn't possible. Sighing, Galatea removed herself from her desk and gathered her things to leave the classroom. Despite having so much to do, she told Helena that she'd visit during her free hour and stay for lunch to catch an eagerly anticipated visitor. She did, however, have one small thing to take care of before then.

Taking out her wand, she charmed a note and locked up her classroom, then left for the staircase.

* * *

><p>By the time she and Mikail arrived for Arithmancy, Poppy was not sorry to see that the only two seats left were together, at the back of the room. Professor Callidus, albeit reluctantly, made them partners- most likely remembering the last time they were paired together. They worked diligently and effectively and she had to give him credit, he was a very good Arithmancer, nearly as good as Minerva. The butterflies that invaded her stomach every so often were difficult to ignore, but while Poppy hated the thought, she couldn't help but be glad Minerva wasn't taking Arithmancy any more.<p>

That was the other thing bothering her; she couldn't understand why Mikail would be interested in _her_ when Minerva was by all accounts, closer to him. Besides which, he got to spend the extra time alone with her while working on her tampered memories. Poppy never considered herself as pretty, or as 'perfect' like Minerva, and she was confused about what he saw in her that he didn't see in her dark haired sister. But Minerva didn't seem to want anything to do with him and unless she was withholding her thoughts about how she felt about him and she didn't seem to be, she had nothing to worry about.

His hand brushed hers as they worked, resulting in a number of stolen glances, flushed cheeks, and for barely a moment, Poppy wondered what it would be like to touch his face, his hair, his lips. She finally conceded that she couldn't deny her attraction to him any more, despite having desperately tried to do so before he kissed her. Any effort to do so now was utterly futile. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that she liked about him so much, maybe it was because he was just so different from all the boys at Hogwarts. His eyes were a charm enough and his voice made her stomach flip, but he also seemed to have genuine compassion, and for the first time she finally realised that she _enjoyed_ these things about him, rather than hated them as she'd first thought.

As the rest of the class began to pack up, Mikail gestured for her to wait until everyone had left, and she did, although she couldn't work out why. When the bell rang and most of the students filed out, Poppy turned, looking at him expectantly.

"Are you doing anything during your lunch break?" he whispered, glancing around. Poppy shook her head and he continued. "Vhat about Minerva and Rolanda?"

Poppy frowned. If she were connected with the girls, she'd have probably known by now.

"They haven't said anything," she murmured as they moved out into the hallway. "Why do you ask?"

"I think I might have found a method of reconstructing her tampered memories that vill be more appropriate and comfortable for both Minerva, and myself."

The witch narrowed her eyes, but did her best to keep her voice even. "So why do you want me and Rolanda amongst your discussion? You haven't asked for us to be present before."

"Because, if it vorks, it vill render her unconscious as she relives the memory in her mind." He slowed and leaned in, keeping his voice quiet. "Depending on how long the memories are, she's going to need a backup plan in case someone realises she's missing, especially vhen ve resolve her seven day adaquel and- more importantly -I have no doubt you vill vish to monitor her health throughout."

Poppy cringed. "Is there no other way to do this without her losing consciousness?"

She watched as Mikail's eyes darted around waiting for a Slytherin to pass them before he spoke again, much quieter and closer to her ear, causing her to shiver a little.

"There is, but it involves me seeing her memories after their reconstruction, something that she and I do not vant. If I remove the connection after triggering the memory to replay, it vill cause her to lose consciousness, then... she vill _likely_ rea_v_aken after she's experienced it."

"What do you mean '_likely_'?" Poppy queried, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and trying to ignore the feelings coursing through her with him being so close.

"It's possible, although rare, that ve could encounter complications and she could end up in a coma."

Poppy bit her lip as she processed the information. The idea of Minerva being unconscious while recovering caused her some concern, not just for medical reasons. Merrythought would not take too kindly to Mikail if she found out that he had caused her protégé to slip into a coma. She suddenly realised that no matter what side he was really on, he was taking a huge risk for the sake of her sister getting her memories back, and he wasn't backing down from his promise to help her.

"Mikail, I- um..." She grasped her hands together in an effort to keep herself from reaching out to him. "I appreciate you telling me about this."

"I thought you vould." His soft smile touched his eyes and she couldn't help but stare. "May I valk with you, and that sharp tongue of yours to our next class?"

"I think you'd better."

* * *

><p>To Minerva's disappointment, her prediction about the letter Galatea sent her proved correct. The professor needed to leave for the Nightingale Headquarters this afternoon, so there would be no time for all the questions Minerva had thought of. She also couldn't help but notice that Galatea had signed her name <em>'GNM'<em> once again, and she desperately wished her mentor wasn't so busy so so could rid the multiple questions from her mind.

By the time they went to lunch, Pomona was still a bit glum and wouldn't say much. While it was obvious that she was upset about Hestia, Minerva was beginning to wonder if something else was bothering her, and the unworn flowers merely added to that suspicion. She wasn't going to press the matter though; if Pomona didn't wish to talk about it so she would let the matter rest.

Lunch was mostly taken up with the discussion between her, Poppy, Rolanda and Mikail as they silently discussed the plan, using self-erasing notes to communicate between each other so that the other students wouldn't overhear them. She wasn't all that shocked at the revelation of possibly falling into a coma. The idea didn't scare her as much as it probably should, her whole focus was on getting her memories back. Rolanda was sceptical, although optimistic and didn't seem too worried. Poppy on the other hand was nervous about it all, but eventually conceded that the chance of becoming comatose was slim and answers were needed and so, the plan continued. On the following Saturday Mikail would attempt to restore Minerva's second adaquel, the one that was tampered with and partially erased.

The rest of their classes came and went, and by the end of the day after her own participation in the Duelling Club- easily defeating Thomas, who took it like a gentleman -Minerva finally had enough free time to visit Helena.

Minerva stood in front of the portrait to Helena's office, smiling as she waited for the pianist in the portrait to acknowledge her.

"Is the head matron in?" she asked.

The man looked over his shoulder as he continued to play softly. "Yes."

"Might I see her please?"

He finished the song after a few moments and got up from the piano.

"I will alert her, one moment please." He disappeared from view, leaving Minerva in the corridor, hoping that she wasn't disturbing the woman's rest. The pianist reappeared with a smile, making her doubts vanish. "The head matron is delighted that you have come to visit."

With that, the portrait opened, and Minerva didn't hesitate to enter. The entrance way was quite simple and decorated with Celtic symbols from both Wales and Scotland, she noted. There wasn't much time to look around before she heard footsteps and the soft thump of a cane. She turned to see Helena at the archway that appeared to lead into a small kitchenette. There was a smile on her face that seemed to light up the room, a much different expression than the one she wore in the hospital. She was very happy, and it was infectious.

"Minerva, my dear, it's good to see you again."

"Likewise." Minerva moved to embrace the matron. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, well enough," Helena released her, her grey eyes beaming. "I've been resting since... Well, I had a guest over for lunch."

"Is that what the letter you got this morning was about?"

Helena's lips curved into a half smile as they made their way into a very cosy living room with Minerva offering her arm to Helena. "You saw that this morning?"

Minerva shrugged, although couldn't help but let her smile widen. "I saw that it made you and Galatea very happy."

"Did you now..." she whispered, getting lost in her thoughts for a moment before returning her focus as they reached the long couch near the fireplace. "Well, Miss Curiosity, I assume you wish to know what it was about?"

"If you want to tell me, I would like to know, but I don't want to pressure you; it's really none of my business," Minerva added, although she was quite sure she didn't need to.

"Oh, I do not mind, not when it involves Gavin at any rate." The matron sat down smiling as she patted the seat next to her. "The letter was from my nephew, Gavin McRayson. He lives in America with his parents, so I don't see him very much."

Minerva couldn't help but blink in surprise as she tilted her head in confusion. "So... you do have family."

"Yes, I do...?" Helena's brow arched in an unspoken question.

"Ah- I apologize, that must have sounded strange. I was under the impression that you didn't have any family left; when the healer refused to let Galatea see you when you were unconscious she told the healer that you _'had no-one else'_."

"Ah, yes, I can see your confusion. How do I put this?" she pursed her lips as she mused, her eyes holding a peculiar expression while she stared at her. "Legally, or as far as the Ministry is concerned, I do not have any family left. Technically, anyone could claim to have relation, but there would be no records to back it up because I had them erased when I joined the Nightingales to prevent the Untergang from ever finding out about them. Truthfully, however, Gavin is the _only_ blood relative that I have left, and he's almost nine years old."

An elf popped in with some tea and Minerva was surprised when she recognized the smell of highland heather in her cup. Pondering for a moment, she couldn't remember telling Helena, _or_ Galatea, about her preference of tea, and wondered if Dumbledore's elf might have mentioned it to Helena's, but she didn't think that was very likely.

"You aren't related to his parents, then?" she queried, stirring her tea and trying to shake the feeling that Helena knew so much more about her than Minerva realised.

"No, not the ones that take care of him anyway." Helena took a sip of tea, her eyes clouded with emotions and her voice sombre when she spoke again. "His mother died from a terrible accident when he was two, and my brother, Drysten... he was afraid and just couldn't cope."

"Afraid about what?"

"Becoming like our... _father_," she ground out the title. "Conyn was abusive and murdered my mother in one of his rampages when I was nine." Minerva's eyes widened in shock as she looked at Helena who was staring down at her tea. "Due to his fear, Drysten put Gavin up for adoption after the death of his wife without me knowing, and the next thing I knew Gavin was gone."

Minerva realised it was more than just happiness that she saw when Helena opened that letter this morning, it was also relief that she was still in her nephew's life. "But you were able to keep in contact, then?"

"Galatea helped me find him, and I thank Merlin that she did because I probably wouldn't have been able to if it wasn't for her..." she sighed. "We both went to Gavin's new home, became acquainted with his new family and informed them of events that had transpired without their knowledge. If it wasn't for the Untergang, I just might have asked them to let me take him back and raise him myself." Helena glanced at her with a much more serene expression. "In an odd way, I'm kind of glad I didn't; Gavin's parents are very good people. They're very proud to have him as their son, and they have kept him safe."

"I'm glad it all worked out," Minerva smiled.

"Me too," Helena hummed softly as the shine in her eyes returned.

Setting her cup down, Minerva debated bringing up her mother while Helena was trying to recover, but in the end, she reasoned that Helena could always request her to ask again another time.

"Would you mind if I asked you a few questions about Màthair? I know you can't tell me much without hard evidence, but I've come across a few findings that have left me with more questions than answers."

"Hmm, all right, but I ask that you answer a question of mine first."

"Just one, or several as we go back and forth like last time?" A smirk tugged at Minerva's lips.

"A tempting offer, but no, just the one." She glanced down at her empty cup, and a flicker of amusement shone from her eyes when they met Minerva's once more. "Or two, if you include me asking you to pour me another cup of tea. Galatea would bark at me forever if she knew I got up for such a trivial matter while you were here."

The Gryffindor chuckled, getting up and refilling Helena's cup. "So, what's your real question?"

"I would like to know," the healer began, setting the cup on the saucer, "why you have come to me for answers this time around?"

Minerva mused for a moment before sitting down, now much closer to Helena. "Well to begin with, you said that you're not manipulated by my màthair, that the only reason you keep silent is because Galatea asks you too, and that you believe keeping secrets is a waste of time," she answered honestly. "But, I confess, there is another reason to see you, to talk with you..." images of her traumatizing dream a few nights ago flashed in her mind as she hesitated, "it's to remind me that a certain nightmare I had isn't true."

"Was it about me..." Helena seemed to tremble over the phrase as if it was just as terrifying to her as it was for Minerva, "…dying?"

"You, and Galatea, and Rolanda." She swallowed as flashes of the dream sequence surfaced again. "I only had it once, but I fear it will come back."

"I dearly hope that it doesn't. I know how traumatic nightmares affect... people." Her grey eyes clouded as a flash of pain crossed her face, although it disappeared when she spoke again. "Thank you for answering honestly, dear, it means a lot to me. You may ask away."

Minerva paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts.

"Do you know if Tradisi murdered Sinium in an effort to force Màthair to miscarry me?"

"Oh, Merlin," Helena looked away, closing her eyes and swallowing hard. She clearly hadn't expected the question, but she sighed and lifted her gaze to once again meet Minerva's eyes. "I should ask what you discovered that lead to such a conclusion?"

"I uncovered my medical records, and I know that Sinium was killed four months before I was born," Helena bobbed her head, though stopped as Minerva added, "but I also know how much Tradisi hated me."

"That, I am sorry to say, is a very big understatement. Tradisi… There is no excuse for everything that _bitch_ has done to your family." She glanced at Minerva, searching for something, then her expression relaxed. "If I said 'no' in answer to your question, what would you think?"

Her answer after that remark caught Minerva off guard. She quickly realised that Helena had asked in such a way that would likely give her an answer if Minerva worded her statement correctly.

"That you're lying."

To Minerva's immense satisfaction and relief, the matron nodded.

"I didn't tell you, though, and that's what matters," Helena murmured. "I am so tired of these secrets, Minerva- and it's not just what I have to keep from you, but what is kept from me as well. I still don't understand why Isobel doesn't just _tell_ you- for Merlin's sake! Or why she continues to demand Galatea keep away from you, why she-" she bit her lip, "why she refused to send Tradisi to Azkaban before she got the chance to meddle and destroy lives..."

Minerva couldn't help but stare at the matron in astonishment. Her last statement didn't make any sense.

"She _refused?_"

"She damn well threatened to _defend_ her if Galatea ever dared try!" Helena hissed, her grip on the cane tightening. "I will_ never _understand that. What is worse, is that Isobel never gave a reason for her actions, even when she knew that she would be putting you and your father at risk by letting her continue to live."

"So Màthair did kill Tradisi?" Minerva whispered, putting the pieces together in her head. Her mind was still spinning at the thought of Isobel defending her mother against Galatea.

"I- oh I give up," the matron breathed in exasperation as her shoulders sank. "Minerva, pure-blood witches very rarely die from _natural _heart attacks at seventy years of age- and I know for a fact that Galatea spent a good deal of time trying to convince the Ministry that Isobel had acted as an Auror. It was even harder to prevent the reporters from bombarding your manor and questioning Isobel about Tradisi's death. Make of that what you will, but I think you understand what I cannot say."

Minerva pursed her lips. "But why would she defend Tradisi, if she knew she'd likely have to kill her later?"

"I don't know, dear, nor does Galatea- or Horace for that matter. I don't think even your father knows. Every time we asked about it, she refused to give us a reasonable answer. I once thought that it was simply revenge, but that doesn't seem to fit the puzzle any more..."

"Is there a puzzle at all?" Minerva voiced her thoughts. "Is there really any reason to justify her actions?"

"Justify?" Helena echoed with a raised brow. "No, not one that I can see."

"And what about Galatea, what does she think?"

The matron hesitated for a moment, possibly struggling with the memories and emotions involved.

"She's still trying to come to grips with the whole thing. She wants to see a legitimate reason to why Isobel has practically abandoned everything that she once stood for..." Helena's voice wavered slightly, "and hopes that there's more to the story. I agreed with her for a time, but I've since realised that the more I tried to find a reason for her actions, the more frustrated I became when my search lead to dead ends, or answers that- to this day -I wish I had never heard."

"Such as?"

"There was one instance, not that long ago, when Isobel stated to Galatea that she wished she had never let their relationship form, along with a few other comments that were just as devastating to her."

A wave of sadness and anger overcame Minerva. How could anyone cause so much pain and suffering to someone they once loved, was beyond her comprehension- the fact that it was her mother doing such a thing to Galatea made it worse. She swallowed, gathering her thoughts before speaking again.

"What about you?"

"Pardon?" Helena blinked, clearly confused by the question.

"You keep saying that this is all very painful for Galatea, but you rarely talk about yourself."

Grey eyes narrowed for a moment before a sad smile appeared on Helena's face.

"I have mourned the beloved young woman that your mother once was since..." a deep sigh escaped her lips, one that made her sound terribly exhausted, "well, since there was an argument that Isobel had with Galatea. The outcome of which was something I cannot- nor will -_ever_ forgive your mother for. After that, the Isobel I had once known has been dead to me. I have moved on, but now- with all that Isobel is doing to Galatea, you and your siblings -that is what hurts me the most."

The green-eyed witch shook her head. "Merlin, I wish there was something I could do to help."

"You are helping, my dear," Minerva leaned into Helena as the the matron wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a tight squeeze, "more than you know."

Helena kissed the top of her head, and at that moment, Minerva got a very odd sense of déjà vu. Yet, she didn't understand how that could be possible- not unless Helena had been a much bigger part of her life than she realised. As she sat with the matron, she had a horrible feeling that perhaps the seven day adaquel was hiding much more than she could comprehend; that her relationship with Galatea was not the only thing that had been taken from her, but also a relationship with Helena. If anything, it made Minerva even more determined to find out what exactly was within the tampered memory.

* * *

><p>Walking through the halls to return to the Gryffindor tower after her visit with the head matron, Minerva couldn't stop pondering the odd sense of familiarity between Helena and herself. However, she was not so lost within her thoughts that she was unaware of the glaring eyes of the few Slytherins watching her every move, causing goosebumps to run up her arms and setting her senses to alert. She took another route, one that was much less travelled, when she heard her name being called from the far end of the corridor.<p>

"Oh hey, McGonagall," Lucretia Black, a seventh year Slytherin, said as she walked towards her, "might I talk to you for a moment?"

Unlike the other Slytherin members, Lucretia had a somewhat warm expression on her face, but it did not stop Minerva from being on her guard.

"Of course," Minerva answered. "What can I do for you?"

"I know this might seem like an odd request, but could you ask the other Gryffindor Prefects to keep an eye out for a couple of cats that have gone missing? One is a black and white tuxedo, the other, a tortoiseshell half-kneazle so he, at least, should be easy to spot."

Minerva noted a change in tone, and took the initiative to search for any eavesdroppers before asking, "Do you suspect something else is going on?"

"I don't know. It's just so odd to have animals disappearing, and, well with the monster about, it would be very bad to have younger students out searching for their animals. We have enough to worry about as it is!"

"You make a very good point. I'll do what I can."

"Thank you," the Slytherin said, her voice almost at a whisper as she continued, "and McGonagall, you are being watched by several from my house."

"I've noticed," Minerva replied grimly, "you wouldn't know why, would you?"

Lucretia swallowed and very subtly shook her head.

"I am not _entirely_ sure, but I know that it has nothing to do with the monster, but it is most certainly not good. I would avoid being out after dark as much as possible if I were you, McGonagall, and _please_, don't tell anyone I said that."

Minerva saw the fear in the older girl's eyes and immediately understood that there might be consequences if any knew she had given out such a warning.

"Your secret is safe with me."

"I appreciate it." Lucretia backed away a few steps, but kept her voice down. "I should leave, and so should you, for that matter."

An eerie feeling came over Minerva as she watched Lucretia leave before continuing her journey towards Gryffindor Tower. When she reached the end of the corridor and turned the corner, she was sure that she saw Eileen Prince standing, holding a small tuxedo cat with another rather large feline at her feet, just staring at her. When Minerva stopped and glanced back, however, they were gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Next time:<strong> an unexpected call after midnight brings a bit of fear - and the game brings a twist of events into motion.  
><strong>~LinK<strong>


	41. Perplexing Woes part I

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

~By Your Side, Tenth Avenue North

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'd like to quell any fears about PoaG being forgotten because of the wait between updates: as much as I hate to say it, college unfortunately takes priority, but PoaG **will** be completed... eventually lol. So thank you for you for the patience :) And as always, much love and appreciation to my betas for helping!

Now, go grab a nice mug of hot chocolate or tea, and enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 35 - Perplexing Woes, part I<strong>

**November 19th, 1942 (continued):**

Minerva returned to the Gryffindor common room that evening knowing she needed a talk with the girls regarding what she had just learned from Helena. While Augusta had yet to return, they knew she was out with Kevin, so they went up to their dormitory to get comfortable and start without her. Minerva kept silent about Helena's personal life and family, out of respect for the woman's privacy, but while explaining about the newly confirmed details was relatively easy, comprehending it was quite the opposite.

"Wait, wait- hold on a second," Rolanda held up her hands as she looked at Minerva in confusion. "Not only was Tradisi likely a horrible mother, but she opposed your parents marriage and also tried to have you killed before you were born, yet your mum _still_ defended her against Merrythought?"

The green-eyed witch bobbed her head, sinking into her bed as she did. "Yes."

"But she ended up killing Tradisi twelve years later, anyway?" Again, Minerva nodded, causing Rolanda's anger to ignite. "I don't... I can't even... What in Merlin's name could possess your mother to do such a thing?"

"I don't know," Minerva sighed, rubbing her temples, "however, Pomona's idea about Màthair developing a mental disorder is really starting to fit, especially now that Helena said Màthair hasn't given any reason to justify her actions, not even one as simple as revenge."

_Which it bloody well looks like it could have been, but why didn't she have Tradisi locked up in Azkaban when she had the chance? Wouldn't that have been revenge enough? Wouldn't that have kept everyone safe?_

She heard Poppy hum in thought and lifted her head with a raised brow as she peered at her sister. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing, just thinking..." The apprentice shifted on her bed to face Minerva. "Helena and Galatea know an awful lot about your mother, and really cared for her- more than Tradisi probably ever did. They're practically your guardians and we know your mum also has two legal guardians. I think it highly likely that they may be her's as well.

Mico settled on his mistress's lap as Minerva mulled over her sister's words.

"Well, it has to be between them, my father, Professor Slughorn and Madame Rominara. I don't know of anyone else alive who could be," Minerva reasoned, her hand gliding repeatedly over the brown tabby's fur. _And Màthair's pushed them all away..._

She tried concentrating on the mystery at hand instead of the sombre thoughts that were beginning to race through her mind, but it was no use. Even though Poppy remained absent from their connection, she noticed Minerva's turmoil before Rolanda.

"Min?" the apprentice quickly moved over to her side and sat down on the bed as Rolanda joined them. Minerva lowered her head, avoiding their gaze as her lip began to tremble.

"Sorry," she took in a deep shuddering breath. "I remember what Malcom said, about what he wants more than anything. When he told me that all he wanted was a màthair that love him, I knew that was no longer possible, but it's really starting to sink in now. He's _never _going to have a màthair that cares about him. As for poor Cayden, he has youth on his side, but she'll probably turn on him too, just like she has with everyone else, and Papa- what will he do if she abandons him? He's a Muggle! He'll want to be with her at all times, but if she leaves and somewhere magical without him, he won't be able to follow her... he'll be frantic with worry."

Rolanda took her hand. "Min, you've got to talk to him about this."

Minerva whipped her head around to face the hawk-eyed witch, her night-time braid smacking the side of her face.

"How? I cannot see him without putting him in danger! I cannot Floo him without risking Màthair overhearing, and only Merlin knows what she'd do if she found out what I know!" A shiver ran up her spine. "On top of that, she's bound to take some sort of action once Galatea 'deals with her' for threatening to send me to Salem."

"Well then, you'll just have to trust Merrythought." Poppy smiled softly, her eyes sparkling with compassion. "She'll do what's best."

"I know," Minerva sighed. She was tired; tired of the ridiculous mysteries, tired of her mother causing so much pain, tired of worrying about everyone and everything. On top of all this, she knew the Time-Turner wasn't helping her either. She was drained, and the jumping back and forth was playing on her nerves. "All right, enough about me. We need to try and cheer Pomona up tomorrow, she's not coping well."

"Hestia still won't say anything?"

"Apparently not."

Poppy shook her head. "Poor Pomona, she at least deserves an explanation-" Whatever else Poppy was going to say was lost as the dormitory swung open, revealing a frantic Augusta.

"Oscar hasn't come back here, has he?" She queried as her blue eyes scanned the room., but before anyone could answer, she realised the answer herself, and her began to lip tremble. "Oh Gods, where is he?"

Rolanda went to her side. "Calm down, Gusta, I'm sure he's-"

"I don't know where he is! I haven't seen him all afternoon, he hasn't touched his food and two other cats have gone missing this week!"

Mico's fur seemed to bristle at Augusta's words and he pressed his body closer against his mistress. Minerva wrapped her arms around her cat as she remembered the haunting sequence of Eileen Prince disappearing from her sight.

"I'm sure they'll all turn up, Oscar included," she feigned a smile. "Cats go missing every now and then, especially when they have this huge castle to get lost in."

"But three in a week is rare, and there wasn't a monster loose in the castle then! What if it's-" Augusta paled, tears gathering in her eyes as she covered her mouth, "I mean it couldn't! The monster's been targeting students, but it's failed to get any of us," she gasped and began to sob as Rolanda wrapped her arms around her. "It wouldn't dare..."

A feeling of dread struck Minerva's chest at the realisation that the monster could very well be feeding on the various animals that roamed Hogwarts, and she held Mico tighter to her.

"If- If Oscar doesn't show up-"

"Hush, Gusta," Rolanda whispered, her hawk eyes staring at Minerva, revealing the fear that her voice did not. "He will."

Despite the assurances, Minerva knew that all the girls were thinking that he was just as likely not to turn up as well, and that thought nearly scared her more that the Untergang ever had.

**November 20th, 1942:**

Minerva lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. It was past midnight, that she was sure of, and while she knew she really should be asleep, there were too many thoughts running through her head. She'd never felt the need to hear her mentor's voice before, to just let Galatea talk her worries away. It was silly, childish even, but she yearned to be in the woman's arms again, on the sofa in front of the fire, and pretend that everything in the world was all right again.

She thought about it for a moment, rationalizing that Galatea was probably asleep, but in the end decided that one little check couldn't hurt. Minerva activated the mirror, initiating a silencing charm and waited patiently her mentor to appear, or sleep to greet her. To her elation, it was the first.

"Minerva?"

A smile brightened her face upon hearing Galatea's voice. She pulled the mirror into a better view as her reflection was replaced by the image of her mentor, softly illuminated by the fireplace behind her.

"Merlin, child, what are you doing up at this hour?"

"I can't sleep," she admitted softly.

Galatea sighed as she rubbed her eyes. "You and me both, I'm afraid."

"Have you heard any news about Gregor?"

"No, the team has not reported in yet," the elder witch murmured, "but we do know from other sources that they were successful in their goal. Operation Uranus is well underway and will no doubt result in a victory over the next few days, but that is of little comfort to me. The Nightingales need them; it will be a great loss to all of us if any of the team has been killed."

"What will you do?" the words slipped out without thinking. She almost apologized, the elder witch had enough sorrow in her heart without her adding to it, but when Galatea spoke she put it aside.

"We shall pull together somehow. We are beginning to forge more alliances with the Ministry and have many more Aurors on our side, so aside from our grief, we should not be stretched too thin. As for me, well, I shall move on, as I always do... eventually, at least."

It surprised Minerva just how frail Galatea seemed so much so that it scared her. She certainly hadn't forgotten what the elder witch told her the night of her attack. Her body was, after all, fifty years older than most witches her age.

"But do not worry about me, darling," Galatea carried on, breaking Minerva's thoughts, "you should be concentrating on your school work and not using that Time-Turner as much as I believe you have of late."

"I can still do my school work while I worry about you, can't I?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood, however, her smile did nothing to lift the sadness in Galatea's eyes as the sparkle died within them.

"But you should nae have to yet."

The despondence in her voice made Minerva's heart lurch as she wished she could wrap her arms around her mentor.

"Galatea, is there something else going on?"

"No," the elder witch shook her head. "No, please forgive me, dear. I am just causing you more worry. My outlook on life becomes rather morbid when I have not had much sleep." Her eyes brightened a little as she glanced at the mirror again. "Thank you for calling, despite the late hour. It was good to hear your voice."

"It was good to hear yours-" Minerva stopped abruptly when she saw Galatea snap her attention to her left.

"Darling, I have to go." The elder witch faced her again, the worry in her eyes just as clear as the urgency in her voice. "Try to get some sleep, all right?"

Minerva didn't have time to respond before she was greeted with her own reflection and a fear of what could be so urgent at this time of night. She prayed it was nothing serious, but she had second thoughts. Galatea Merrythought had been legitimately worried, and whatever worried the Nightingale leader was never something trivial.

Ending the Silencing charm, Minerva rolled over onto her other side and Summoned her wand. With a gentle flick, she held back a groan when she saw the time; it was half past two.

Setting the wand back on the nightstand, she snuggled under the covers and closed her eyes. Within seconds, she was greeted by a handsome, blue-eyed furball wanting to tuck himself under the blankets and curl up against her chest. With a groggy chuckle, she let Mico in and get settled, then waited for sleep to greet her.

Except it wasn't sleep that entered her mind, but terror - terror that her mentor was going to get killed and that their conversation might have hindered Galatea's chance of detecting an intruder earlier...

Sleep was not going to come tonight.

* * *

><p>"Minerva, what do you think you're doing?" Poppy grumbled, her dressing gown swaying around her as she grabbed her sister by the arm before Minerva could open the door. It may have been seven in the morning, but the winter sun wasn't quite over the horizon yet. "It was acceptable for us to be out so early yesterday, but if you go out this early again, people are going to wonder what is wrong with you!"<p>

"As if that doesn't happen already," Minerva scoffed, pulling the door open, but finding her progress slowed by Poppy's iron grip on her forearm.

"Min, I'm serious," she hissed, "what's gotten into you?"

Green eyes blinked. "Galatea. I don't know what happened, but something frightened her and she turned off the mirror almost mid sentence last night."

Poppy arched a brow, unable to recall her sister having a conversation with the professor before they all went to bed. "Last night?"

"Around two in the morning, actually," Minerva clarified. "I couldn't sleep so I opened the mirror connection on the off the chance that she was still awake."

"Well, I'm sure she's all right," Poppy said, "she's Galatea Merrythought, after all."

"That may be, but it wasn't enough when the Untergang decided to attack her."

"She was ambushed, alone, behind enemy lines, and she still survived. It was close, I'll grant you that, but she's alive and barking at anyone causing the slightest bit of disorder." Poppy frowned when Minerva averted her gaze. "How much are you using your Time-Turner?"

"More than I perhaps should," she admitted grudgingly.

"How bad is it when you travel?"

"I get dizzy spells."

"Yes, that's a normal side effect, Min, but how _bad_ are they?" Poppy persisted, she was becoming quite bored with her sister's subterfuge.

Minerva pursed her lips, giving her a look of disapproval. "I'm fine-"

"Until you collapse from exhaustion!"

"Poppy-"

"Don't you _'Poppy'_ me, Minerva McGonagall!" she glared, matching her sister's.

"Why must you be so stubborn about this? I've been using the device for the past three years and these side effects happen every semester. I stop using it after our final exams and everything returns to normal- just as it will be again this time around, so stop worrying. I promise I'll tell you if it becomes problematic, okay?"

Poppy folded her arms and looked away, choosing not to say anything. She didn't need to. Poppy knew that both their opinions of 'problematic' were worlds apart, and that was where the trouble lay. It was a fair assumption to say that unless she was an inch from death, Minerva would carry on as if nothing was the matter.

She turned back just in time to see the dark haired witch roll her eyes and exit the dormitory, closing the door behind her with a bit more noise than necessary.

"That went well." Rolanda's sarcastic voice echoed in her ears.

Groaning, Poppy rubbed her temples, it was too early in the morning to be dealing with this. "What would you have me do, Rola?"

"Hey, calm down, will you?" the hawk-eyed witch held up her hands for peace. "I know you're tired and so am I, but I'm with you on this one, okay? We're going to have to work together to keep an eye on her."

Poppy blinked in pleasant surprise, she hadn't expected Rolanda's support. "Thank you, Rola."

"Don't mention it," Rolanda flashed a smile, "and whatever still has you upset and unwilling to connected with us, you know we'll listen and help however we can don't you?"

Poppy nodded her head, before moving away to get dressed and prepare for whatever the day would bring.

* * *

><p>Minerva summoned her winter coat and pulled it on while carefully watching the shadows as she strode down the torch lit halls. Considering the warning she received from Lucretia Black, she knew that she shouldn't be out of the common room before dawn, but she needed to clear her head. She felt like she was drowning.<p>

Truthfully, she knew that she was probably overreacting to Galatea's abrupt ending to their conversation, but the look in her mentor's eyes had genuinely scared her, and she while would never admit it out loud, she was terrified of the unknown. She pondered the possibility of using the Time-Turner to investigate and, depending on what she found, reassure herself; however, not only would she be breaking thirteen school rules and seventeen Ministry laws, but perhaps more importantly, she would be intruding upon her mentor's privacy. As much as she hated it, she knew she would just have to wait for answers- just like she had to with almost everything else.

As she started walking past the Transfiguration Courtyard, her awareness alerted her to the fact that she wasn't alone. Stopping in her tracks and gazing across the space, Minerva realised that it was Hestia Jones, of all people, and judging by her sniffling she had either been out in the cold for too long, or the witch was crying.

Minerva pondered about simply staying out of the situation and letting Pomona and Hestia work it out, but with the way things were going between the two, that prospect seemed almost hopeless. Someone needed to start the talking before the tears they had already shed became too much to take back.

"Hestia?" she called as she walked towards her.

"M-Minerva?" the Hufflepuff stuttered, wiping away the tears on her face before facing her. "What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you the same thing," the Gryffindor replied as she peered into Hestia's eyes and sat down beside her on the stone steps. Hestia looked down at her hands, let out a sigh. Frowning, Minerva tried to think of something to say when her eyes caught the flickering torchlight that illuminated a lightly frosted bush of beautiful winter roses.

"Hestia, do you know who's been sending Pomona the flowers?" She pursed her lips as Hestia bobbed her head. "Are you sending them to her?"

The Hufflepuff exhaled, watching her breath in the air before she closed her eyes. "Yes, I'm the one behind the flowers, though Petalson helped." Hestia leaned back against the pillar behind them. "You don't know how good it feels to say, after keeping it a secret for so long. I hate ignoring her, but I don't see any other option. Just being friends this year has been so terribly difficult."

"Why haven't you told her?"

"Because she's not like me," Hestia sighed, and her body shivered from the cold. "I've never heard her said anything that would indicate that she's fond of women, nor has she acted it. On top of that, her mother is Muggle-born, and Pomona was raised in Muggle society. You know what most Muggles think about same-sex couples." She sniffed as tears once again shimmered on her lashes. "Come to think of it, I'm a little surprised that you're not repulsed by me right now, but I'm so very glad you're not."

"Hestia, please listen to me," Minerva took the witch's hand, mentally flinching at how cold it was, "you have got to tell her. I don't know whether or not she loves you platonically, or romantically, but I know that she is in turmoil because of your silence. Even if she doesn't feel the same way, I am quite sure that she could never hate you for feeling what you feel. She just wants her best friend back."

As the cold nipped at her ears, she watched with a great deal of patience while Hestia looked up to the bright, twinkling stars. Blinking back tears, the Hufflepuff finally nodded.

"Tomorrow, after the game, I'll tell her then." Minerva smiled, her hand squeezing Hestia's for a moment as the other witch looked back at her. "Can I ask you to make sure she's there? Only don't say it's me, tell her that it's her secret admirer, please?"

Minerva refrained from letting a frown take from. She wasn't entirely sure how Pomona would take to the secret admirer request, given her recent disdain towards the flowers, but she agreed nonetheless. "I'll make sure she's there."

"Thank you, Minerva!" Hestia leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Minerva watched as Hestia quickly left, a little stunned at the display of affection, but she was pleased that the witch was in a much happier mood than before.

"Well for goodness sake, Min."

Her green eyes widened at the sound of Rolanda's voice as she looked up to see a mischievous hawk-eyed witch hovering several feet above her.

"You know, when I left to find you, I expected you to be with Merrythought, Dumbledore, or by yourself. I didn't expect to see you with Hestia and I certainly didn't expect to see her thanking you like that for that matter."

Minerva smirked, her fingers subconsciously grazing her cheek for a moment. "How long have you been there?"

"Sadly-" Rolanda hooked both legs over one side of the broom as she hung upside down for a moment before swinging her body and releasing her legs, performing her signature move with perfection as both her feet landed squarely on the stone steps, "-not long enough to hear who you'll make sure is there- wherever _'there'_ is."

Her gloved hand reached out, just in time for the broom to drop right into her grasp as she smirked, eyes beaming with amusement.

"Miss Rolanda Hooch!" A sharp, familiar bark rang in their ears as both of them jumped, turning to see Professor Merrythought marching towards them looking absolutely furious. "If I _ever _catch you pulling a stunt like that again- you could have broken your neck, or worse... and over stone steps too for that matter!" Galatea bristled as she shuddered. "I shall be taking points from Gryffindor, of _that _I can assure you!"

"Really, Professor, it's no big deal. I've practiced that move to perfection."

"No doubt you gave your mother several heart attacks in the process," the professor muttered disapprovingly, then sniffed and took out a piece of parchment handing it over to Rolanda. "This is for you," Galatea's voice dropped significantly, "and I advise you to let me deliver your response back. Hand it in with your homework on Monday and I shall see that your màthair receives it."

Rolanda blinked, apparently speechless by the kindness being shown to her. "I will, thank you, Professor."

Minerva swore she witnessed a faint smile on Galatea's lips before the professor turned to face her. "We will need to talk later, Miss McGonagall."

Despite the rather ominous words, Minerva reasoned that whatever her mentor needed to tell her, it couldn't have been that dreadful, she wouldn't have smiled otherwise.

"Yes, Professor."

"Now both of you, for Goodness sake, off you go, into the Great Hall before you catch your death."

As Galatea turned, Minerva glanced at Rolanda and both of them had to desperately fight their laughter. They weren't quite sure what was so amusing, maybe it was that Professor Merrythought hadn't actually taken any points off and instead, had showed them her kind side, or maybe it was how motherly Galatea's supposedly stern voice had sounded. Either way, by the time they reached the Great Hall, they were both giggling madly.

* * *

><p>"All right everyone, on three, you may begin. Remember, the first to create the Draught of Living Death receives a bottle of Felix Flexis!" Professor Slughorn instructed, his eyes scanning the room with enthusiasm. "One - Two -"<p>

A sudden screech of an owl echoed through the classroom, interrupting the Potions Master. Before Minerva had the chance to turn and look, the intruder crashed into the table in front of her, sending her and Augusta's cauldrons to the floor, along with several bottles of potions, ingredients and papers as several students screamed. Thankfully, Slughorn extinguished the cauldron flames before the spilled bottle of Syrup of Arnica reached it and ignited poisonous fumes. Minerva's wand shot out, levitating the bird into the air as Augusta and the other students frantically fired spells to keep more ingredients from mixing.

"Great Scott!" Professor Slughorn exclaimed after the danger had passed. Minerva lowered the owl and held him firmly in her arms so he couldn't break free.

"What the devil has gotten into you?" she hissed as she ripped the letter from Toby's beak and stashed it in her pocket. There were several gasps before Michael Thomas quickly stood up and walked over to her.

"Don't move your hand," he instructed as he gently began to move Toby's left wing. Minerva did as he asked, albeit a bit confused, until the bird suddenly screeched and tried to bite Michael. At first, Minerva thought Toby got a nip at her fellow House-mate, but then she realised that the blood on Michaels's hand wasn't his. Her heart began to pound and she quickly shut off her connections.

"Oh my," Slughorn breathed, "Mr Thomas, will you help Miss McGonagall get this bird to Professor Kettleburn? He should be in the Staff Room."

Minerva hardly waited for Michael to reply, she was already moving towards the halls by the time she heard his voice, followed by the sound of quick footsteps. Toby was wriggling, his cries echoed through the dungeons, and if it wasn't for the fact that he hadn't been such a terrible fowl to begin with, Minerva might have been a little more sympathetic.

"Stop squirming, Toby!" Minerva muttered as her grip on him began to falter. He almost got away too, had Michael not lent a hand.

"D'ya want me to take him?"

"If you think you can handle him, by all means!" She released the bird into the wizard's clutches. "Abominable bird, never done an ounce of good!" Her Scottish brogue became more pronounced as she muttered on.

"I dunno, he seems all right, just frightened. I wonder what got him."

Green eyes widened. "Hush, Michael."

"I beg your Pardon?"

"You heard me, don't talk about it!" she whispered sharply. "Especially not in the dungeons where the Slytherins may overhear us."

"Okay," Michael raised a brow but smirked and they continued in silence- save for Toby's whimpering squawks -until they reached the main part of the castle. "Mind if you tell me what's going on, Minerva?"

"I'm not sure." Her green eyes glanced around for anyone nearby as she raised her awareness. "I really hope I'm wrong, but the threatening glares I've been getting from the Slytherins don't help. Let's just get Toby to Kettleburn."

_And pray that this nightmare hasn't gotten worse._

* * *

><p>Toby had thankfully given up protesting by the time they reached the Staff Room, however, when Minerva sensed that there were people inside, all talking rather feverishly, she wondered if intruding was a bad idea.<p>

"What's the problem?" Michael asked.

"I think they're having a meeting."

"So what? Your bird needs to be looked at."

Minerva pursed her lips. Truly, she couldn't care less about the owl, but she wanted to know if he had been injured by a spell. If he had, then it could indicate that her family was no longer safe at the Manor.

She knocked three times, then opened the door, and the room stilled into silence as she and Michael walked in. If it was a meeting, it must have been an important one. The headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Kettleburn, Professor Beery, and even Galatea- who immediately blanched as she glanced in her direction -were stiffly standing near each other.

"I'm terribly sorry if we're interrupting, but-"

"Merlin's beard, your bird too?" Kettleburn interrupted her as he rushed over to them and gently took Toby into his arms, who was apparently too tired to put up a fight. "Third one this morning, and all of them belong to Aurors!"

Minerva did her best to rein in her fear as her eyes immediately connected with Galatea. "Is it the Untergang?"

"We are not certain yet, Miss McGonagall."

"Well, if it wasn't 'em, then it surely had to be the Anhänger! This bird's been hit with the same hex, their attacker was no doubt trying to send a message, although-" Kettleburn stiffened, then whirled around to face his colleagues. "This wound is more recent than the other two that came in. It must have been done in Hogsmeade or-"

"-or in the Forbidden Forest," Dumbledore finished with a grim expression.

His words made Minerva blanch. If the Untergang was camped within the forest, then Hogwarts was in more danger than anyone previously thought.

"Sweet Merlin, some owl is going to get killed!" Kettleburn muttered as his hands trembled.

"I think at this point, Silvanus, owls are the _least_ of our concern!" Galatea growled, her eyes flashing in challenge for him to dare speak of animals first instead of the children, before she glanced at Dumbledore. "Are you thinking what I am thinking, Albus?"

"Oh, I believe so, Galatea. I shall request an audience with the centaurs and ask for them to investigate the forest."

"Now we're getting the centaurs involved? Surely this can be sorted out on our own without anyone else getting involved?" the headmaster asked, completely baffled, yet Galatea and Dumbledore didn't seem to hear him.

"Then I will see to it that every student and parent is notified-"

"I protest!" Dippet bellowed. "Hogwarts is already fractured in the eyes of the public! If word got out that the post wasn't safe-"

Just then, the fireplace in the Staff Room flashed green and flared to life as none other than the Minister of Magic stepped through, and the minute she did the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's facial expression became quite dark.

"Evangeline Orpington," Galatea ground out through her clenched teeth, "how _good_ it is for you to come."

"Peace, Galatea, I called her here," the headmaster spoke up.

Galatea scoffed. "And that is supposed to reassure me? Every time there is a crisis and you get the Ministry involved, it just makes things _worse!_"

"Galatea-" Dumbledore laid a hand on her shoulder, but the elder witch paid no attention to it.

"No, Albus, I have had enough!" she whipped around to face Professor Dippet and Minister Orpington. "This school is not as impenetrable as you would all like to believe in your pretend little utopia! The _only_ reason that the Untergang has yet to breach this castle is because of the Nightingales! Not your damn Ministry protection, not the castle's magic; it is _my_ good men and women who are putting their life on the line while you all discuss measures of foolishness when there is a crisis on our hands!"

Michael nudged Minerva gently with his elbow. "What's going on?"

"A leadership struggle, by the sound of things," she muttered quickly, watching her mentor with admiration as she hounded her superiors.

"I can concede in not informing the public," the Nightingale captain continued, "but I protest _strongly_ at not informing the parents who are potential targets! They _must_ be made aware that their letters to and from Hogwarts are no longer secure!"

"But surely you and your forces can see to that-"

"To what?" Galatea's voice trembled with rage. "See to _what_ exactly, Headmaster? That every damn letter is delivered? The Nightingales are not a delivery service! So, get your head out of whatever bloody land it is in, because it is surely not here! Need I remind you that there is a God-forsaken war in which millions of people have already perished?"

"I have to agree with Galatea," Dumbledore spoke up. "Those parents _must _be warned."

"But at the cost of Hogwart's situation becoming more fragile-"

"Headmaster, there is a monster roaming the castle!" Galatea roared. "Hogwarts is not safe any more!"

Orpington huffed. "I think that's quite enough, Merrythought. Hogwarts has to say open; not just for education purposes, but so many children depend on it because they have nowhere else to go."

"You might not have a choice in the matter, Evangeline," Dumbledore glowered in defence. "I would find an alternate solution immediately, for if this monster doesn't stop attacking, then it will not just be Galatea or myself that you will have to worry about."

The Minister sniffed, but kept her stare leveled upon Dumbledore. "Armando, might I have a word in your office?"

With that, Evangeline and Headmaster Dippet stormed out of the Staff Room, muttering to each other under their breath as they did.

Professor Kettleburn cleared his throat. "If there's nothing else, I shall be off to tend to the owls."

"You may go, Silvanus." Professor Dumbledore sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took off his glasses. "Herbert, will you have the Bones family and the Vance twins brought here, please?"

"Of course, Albus."

The Deputy nodded his thanks. Before he followed the other two professors out, his sapphire eyes rested upon Minerva for a heartbeat. In just that glance, she saw the full extent of his weariness, worries and frustration, and the impulse to want to do everything in her power to help him coursed through her as she watched him go.

"All right then," Galatea breathed as she tried to ease the frustration from her voice, "Mr Thomas, Miss McGonagall, I am placing a great deal of trust in both of your consciences to not utter a word that has been said here today."

"Not a word, Professor," they said in near unison.

"Thank you. Now, Mr Thomas, you are excused and may head back to your class- although," she glanced at the drying blood on his hand, "after you thoroughly wash your hands first. "

Michael glanced at Minerva, still a bit baffled after everything they had just seen and heard, but then nodded and left. The minute the door shut behind him, Galatea closed her eyes and sat down in a nearby chair. A few strands of greying hair slipped from her tight french bun and tangled with her fingers when she brought her hands up to massage her temples.

"Isobel never should have sent you that letter, she knew this might happen..." the elder witch sighed. "Have you read it yet?"

"Ah- no, I haven't," Minerva stuttered, noting how exhausted her mentor seemed compared to earlier this morning. She removed the envelope from her pocket, but just before she opened it, she realised that it wasn't from her mother like she had feared. "It's not from her."

Pale blue eyes rimmed red with exhaustion snapped open. "Pardon?"

"Cayden sent it," she nearly whispered in her shock as she freed the parchment from its envelope.

_Minvey,_

_I hope you get this, I sent it without Màthair's or Papa's help. This might sound strange, but I think something's wrong with Màthair. We've been really close after we got home and ever since then there's been an odd feeling about her that's grown worse as the month goes on. I felt it disappear when she came back from an errand a few weeks ago, and it faded when she spent time in the Enchanted Hall, but it always comes back. But she hasn't really changed. We do everything we always do, even cuddle on the settee and read stories when Papa is away, but, I don't know. It just doesn't feel right, like it shouldn't be there. It's kind of like a really dark cloud._

_I'm scared, Minvey. Papa said it's nothing to fret about, but I don't believe him. I want to ask Màthair, but I bet she'll just give me the same answer. I really wish you were coming home for Christmas, it gets a bit lonely sometimes._

_Love,  
>Cayden.<em>

She wasn't entirely sure if she breathed for several minutes. Her heart felt like it was breaking. She truly didn't want her mother to have a mental disorder or anything of the kind, but if Cayden was connected with her and could feel something changing then-

"Minerva?"

Galatea's hand touched hers, bringing her back to reality. She gasped before quickly banishing the letter to her dormitory, then forced her thoughts to take a quick turn from the contents of the letter and towards the consequences of it.

"Just how much of a problem would it be if Cayden sent that without Màthair or Papa knowing?"

The answer was apparent before Galatea uttered a word. She didn't have to, the fear that seized her face was enough.

"That means protocol was not followed- the Manor's probably been exposed." She fished out her wand and immediately waved it, conjuring her Patronus. The wolf padded around her in a quick dance before echoing a howl and dashed through the walls. "Merlin, what _else_ will go wrong?" Galatea muttered, gently shaking her head, before returning her gaze to Minerva. "I would no longer send anything home. I will tell your màthair what has happened, and hopefully she will tell Robert and Cayden. Could you inform Malcom for me, please?"

Minerva found herself nodding upon reflex, her mind too occupied with the letter to speak, although she did snap out of it when her mentor spoke again.

"Is it too much for me to hope that what Cayden sent was out of boredom or loneliness?"

_I almost wish it was_. She blinked away the thought. "No, it wasn't anything trivial, but it's not important enough to distract you."

"Darling," the elder witch began, but Minerva shook her head.

"You have more than enough to deal with, Galatea, this can most definitely wait until later." Minerva took a step back, very much hating her words as she spoke them, but the safety of others came first. "You said that we'd be able to talk later; will that still happen?"

"I will do my very best to make it so. Do you think you will still be awake by ten-thirty?"

A faint smile cracked Minerva's face as she took her mentor's hand. "I think I should be asking you that. I apologize if this is crossing a line, but Galatea, you look absolutely exhausted. Just how much sleep have you had the past few days?"

Crystal eyes averted her gaze as she answered cryptically, "More than some nights, but less than what should be normal. Please do not worry," Galatea patted Minerva's hand, the corners of her mouth curving upward. "I wandered through a blizzard on less sleep than this and still survived. I will definitely be awake for our conversation later, dear."

Minerva stared at her for several seconds, trying to see a hint of the many secrets that her guardian held, and searching for the truthfulness of her words.

"Just promise me that you'll get some sleep tonight?"

Galatea pursed her lips. "Keep talking like that, child, and I shall think Helena put you up to the task." Her features softened. "However, I will agree on one condition; you must not use your Time-Turner this weekend, or the next. I have no doubt that you are using it more than you should."

"It's a deal," she affirmed, squeezing Galatea's hand as she checked her awareness to see if the students were nearby, and reckoning that she should ask now rather than later. "Tell me though, what was so urgent last night?"

"Oh, it was nothing serious, I am very sorry if I worried you," the elder witch offered, but while she didn't avoid direct eye contact this time, Minerva got the feeling that Galatea wasn't being entirely truthful on some level or another.

"Nothing too seriously urgent to call you away at nearly two in the morning?" she raised her brow in disbelief.

Galatea sighed, recognizing that the Gryffindor wasn't going to give up. "I thought I heard something and believed it could be an intruder, but it was not. I think my lack of sleep might have flared up my paranoia more than usual." Pale blue eyes flickered to the door and Minerva heard the faint echo of footsteps nearby as the elder witch rose from her seat. "One last thing before you go, dear. It has come to my attention that two more cats disappeared last night. Please," her voice softened to almost a whisper, "abstain from using your Animagus more than absolutely necessary until this is solved."

Minerva could almost hear the unspoken words '_I do not want to lose you'_ at the end by how cracked Galatea's voice became, and despite wanting to, there was no time to reassure her. The Bones and Vance families were almost at the door, so she did her best to communicate it through her eyes, instead of her voice.

"Thank you for informing me, Professor. I'll be sure to take your advised precautions to heart."

A second later, the door cracked open and both witches met the five waiting students with almost identical grim, but stern facial masks.


	42. Perplexing Woes part II

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

~By Your Side, Tenth Avenue North

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'm blaming Oz the Great and Powerful for distracting me from writing PoaG... and you'll never guess where Spin is! She's in Australia visiting Em down under! These lovely ladies deserve applause for doing PoaG under such an occasion! On another note: PoaG has now passed 300k :D

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 35 - Perplexing Woes, part II<strong>

**November 20th, 1942 (continued):**

It took every ounce of willpower that Minerva had to walk calmly and quietly from the Staff Room after everything that had been revealed. She felt utterly torn by her desperate desire to transform into her Animagus and find Malcom, as well as Floo to the Manor to be sure that Cayden and her parents were safe. Her life seemed to have taken a sudden dive into helplessness in less than twenty-four hours and it was something she was unaccustomed to. She wanted to do something, anything except feign her ignorance of the situation, but she knew it was what Galatea needed her to do, so she obeyed.

"Hey, Minerva," Michael's voice snapped the witch from her thoughts, "are you all right?"

"Just fine," she replied coolly, not daring to slow down as she cast a glance at the the wizard by her side.

Michael huffed. "You can't fool me after what I just heard in there."

"Then why did you ask?" she snapped, keeping her eyes forward in the hope that he would leave her alone, but of course, he didn't. He grabbed her arm instead.

"Because the Untergang could possibly be after your family and I am concerned," Michael whispered, ignoring the warning signs of Minerva's darkening mood. His hold on her may have been gentle, but it was a violation of her space and he was not letting go.

"Well, since you seem to know everything that's going on, you should have a pretty good idea of how I feel," she jerked her arm from his grasp, "and if I remember correctly, Professor Merrythought ordered you to go back to your class."

"Where are you going?"

Green eyes flashed with annoyance as she stopped, glancing back over her shoulder.

"Mind your own business, Michael."

* * *

><p>Professor Slughorn had done his best to resume class despite the interruption, but the damage was already done. The other students were whispering their speculations about Toby being attacked and what it meant for the McGonagalls, while Poppy, Rolanda and Augusta shared brief glances with one another, just trying to contain their fear. Poppy also tried to make eye contact with Mikail several times to no avail, which only made the sickening feeling in her stomach worsen, and her concentration slip. She wasn't the only one, judging by Mikail's ashen expression and the abnormally dismal potion that was steaming in his cauldron.<p>

"Mikail, mi'lad, are you feeling quite well?"

"N-no, Professor, I need to go to the Hospital Ving."

"Mmm, all right, then," Slughorn agreed, although as soon as Mikail left the classroom, he paused for a moment and glanced at Poppy. "Miss Pomfrey, will you see to it that he makes it there, please? He looked awfully green."

Distracted as she was, Poppy didn't miss the professor's stern tone. It was clear that Professor Slughorn was afraid that Mikail had other intentions, and she wasn't about to miss the chance to interrogate him. She didn't bother to grab her belongings before she rushed to follow him. To her mild surprise, he hadn't gone very far, but he was most definitely not heading towards the Hospital Wing.

"Mikail, where are you going?"

"I had a feeling he vould send someone," Mikail muttered over his shoulder, without stopping. "I'm glad it's you though."

"Where are you going?" She grabbed his shoulder and made him face her.

"I need to find out vhat is going on."

"You don't know?"

"All I know is that this is not vork of the Untergang- vell it is for the others, but not for the McGonagalls' owl," he added absently.

"They've targeted other owls?"

"Yes, the Vance family in particular, and they vere going to try for Bones. I didn't say anything because they meant it as a varning, to spread fear and panic," Mikail's voice hardened, "...their specialty."

Poppy swallowed her fear at his words, and pushed herself to query him further. "If their lives had been in danger, would you have warned Professor Merrythought, or someone at least?"

"Yes, I vould have," steady tawny brown eyes locked with hers, "even if I had to risk my cover."

Her lips pursed and hazel eyes narrowed. She had no reason _not _to believe him, but she had to take his word and trust him.

"All right, fine, I'll believe you," she conceded, watching his hardened expression ease, "but only if you let me listen to your conversations."

"Poppy-"

"Do you want me to trust you?"

"Yes, but it's-"

"Then don't protest!" Poppy snapped, her usually honey glazed voice now sharp as steel. "I'll stay silent and out of the way as you converse with them by Floo, but I will _not_ be kept in the dark." Stepping closer, she brought her hand up and placed it on her chest. "Trust me," Poppy breathed, then pointed at Mikail, the pads of her fingertips brushing against his chest, "and I'll trust you."

The way his pupils dilated did not go unnoticed.

Her heart pounded.

Yet before she could pull away, he snatched her hand, then dragged her off with him to the Room of Requirement.

* * *

><p>"Now the next Head of Hogwarts we'll be looking at is Headmistress Eoessa Sakndenberg, born in Hampshire, England, in the year 1379." Minerva heard Professor Binns's ghostly voice from the hallway. "She was a brilliant potions maker, and the first Potion Master to become Head of Hogwarts after Salazar Slytherin's departure nearly 480 years previously-"<p>

If the circumstances were different, Minerva would never interrupt Professor Binns in the middle of a lecture- no matter how boring -but this was an exception. She knocked twice before letting herself into the classroom.

"Professor Binns, I apologize for interrupting, but might I speak with you? It's urgent." Her green eyes flicked to Malcom's and reassured herself that he was safe.

The ghost tilted his head to the side, studying her for a moment, before be floated over. "What is the matter, Miss McGonagall?"

"Professor Merrythought has asked me to inform my brother of a serious personal matter."

"Hmm, Galatea would not send you if it was trivial" Binns muttered to himself, then turned to face his class. "Mr McGonagall, you are excused for the remainder of class. Come see me later if you have questions."

Malcom quickly shoved his book into his bag and scurried out, his eyes bright and his smile wide. Taking a few steps down the hall, out of sight from the open classroom door, Minerva had to look away. That smile wasn't going to last for very long.

"You couldn't have come at a better time, Min, his lecture almost put me to sleep!" She didn't have to glance at him to know that his smile had faded when he stopped and didn't speak for several seconds. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to wish you hadn't saved me?"

"Because you will," Minerva sighed while patting his arm and leading her brother to the stone bridge. She cast a silencing charm around them both and finally broke the silence. "Toby was hit with a hex; most likely from the Untergang."

"The Untergang?" he echoed with fear. "Are Papa and Cayden all right?"

"I don't know. Galatea sent her Patronus to warn them, but they're all likely to be just fine," Minerva heard the words come out of her mouth, but she wasn't sure she believed them. She needed to see her family alive before she accepted that they were safe. "He was hit on his way to the castle, so it's fair to say that _we_ are in the most immediate danger; along with all the students who have parents who are, or were, Aurors."

Minerva watched as her brother nodded slowly, taking in the information.

"What did Màthair say in the letter?"

"Actually," the witch paused, wondering how much she should tell him, "it was from Cayden."

"Please, please, tell me he didn't send it for a bit of fun?" Malcom groaned.

"If only," Minerva muttered under her breath, then sighed as she stopped in her tracks and looked out over the grounds. Everything that occurred today was making her feel trapped and threatened. It didn't compare to when she was the Manor, but the ominous feeling wasn't leaving her. "He sent the letter secretly so Màthair wouldn't know that he was scared."

"Scared about the Untergang?" Minerva only had to glance his way before he understood. "Oh, I see... he's scared of Màthair."

Minerva nodded her head sadly. "Ever since he went back to the Manor, he's been able to feel that something is wrong with her. He described it as a dark cloud that recedes when she runs a special errand or when she goes into the Enchanted Hall, but it always returns and it's getting worse." Malcom's green eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. "Cayden asked Papa about it, but he got the typical _'it's nothing to worry about'_ speech."

"What do you think is wrong with her?"

"It could be a mental disorder that affects both magic and the mind. From what I'm told, magical instability runs in the family, so it's not so unbelievable."

"If you're right, does that mean we'll develop it as well?"

The witch blinked. Her heart seemed to stop as the memory of her first lesson with Galatea flooded into her mind.

"_...the first daughter from the Ravenclaw line has always developed a magical instability one which is often quite severe."_

_Minerva smirked. "Except me."_

_Galatea opened her mouth to say something before changing her mind and simply nodding. "Yes, except you, my dear_."

She forced herself to breathe as her mind snapped back to the present.

_What had Galatea wanted to say? To make me believe otherwise? Is that what Màthair doesn't want me to know - that I'll become insane like her?_

Swallowing hard to clear her mind, Minerva didn't dare raise her gaze to meet her brother's. "No, not you, or Cayden at least."

"Miss McGonagall?"

Minerva stiffened and her pupils became cat like slits as she sharply turned around and steeled herself for the inevitable.

_Evangeline Orpington._

"Dare I ask what you need me for, Minister?"

"Now now, dear, there's no reason for hostility," the Minister chastised. "I would like to speak with you, if I may?"

"If it's regarding the incident with Toby or my family, then I'm afraid I have nothing to say to you."

Evangeline smiled and Minerva knew it was more. "Then it's a good thing that I'm here for neither."

* * *

><p>It was only when the Room of Requirement sealed them both inside that Mikail released Poppy's hand. He didn't look at her while leaning against the castle wall to catch his breath, but he knew she was staring at him. He also knew that he wouldn't be able to break the gaze if he stared back, so Mikail closed his eyes, trying to think of other things.<p>

He had dragged Poppy through the halls the whole way, making her follow him through detours to avoid Professor Beery and other students, which had caused her to crash into him on the fourth floor. Her soft hand had squeezed his while the other grabbed his shoulder to steady herself- and he may have wrapped a hand around her slender waist to aid her. The scent of her hair stilled his thoughts.

Apple blossom.

As if that wasn't enough of a distraction, they had come across two stray Ravenclaws who were thankfully too busy snogging to notice them. The soft moan that the witch had uttered was still echoing in his mind, as was the lovely visualisation of him ensnaring Poppy's lips, enticing the same lovely sound from her throat.

He wondered if she was thinking the same, if she would allow him the privilege of hearing that some day, if she would... Mikail blinked, forbidding his thoughts from drifting too far. Trust came first.

"So, how's this going to work?" Poppy asked.

Mikail cleared his throat, noticing that her lovely voice was thicker than normal. "I shall be Flooing my mentor, find out vhat he knows. Hopefully I vill not have to do more than that." He crossed his arms as their gaze locked once again. "I vill have to cast a translation spell for you to understand vhat's being said, ve do not converse in English."

Poppy blinked her eyes. She knew should have expected he'd speak Russian to his mentor. Her mind was still in a haze, lost in sensations- both new and oh so desired. She knew it was just lust, but part of her didn't care. She just wanted him to hold her close again, his hand upon her waist, breath tickling her cheek...

She nodded, remembering she hadn't responded to his reply. "Yes, of course. Thank you."

Her heart was still pounding in her ears as she watched him remove his wand from his pocket. With a soft smile, he leaned forward, their faces just a few inches apart, then spoke a brief sentence in Russian. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead her conscious visualized him leaning forward, tilting his head, closing his eyes and their lips coming together...

Blinking, Poppy drew in a breath to remind herself that he hadn't moved. He could have swept her off her feet, make her forget all about Minerva and the Untergang for a while, yet he hadn't. Mikail hadn't moved and that stupid smile on his face hadn't disappeared.

"What does that mean?" she finally whispered.

Mikail chuckled, then stood back, waved his wand and murmured, "_Verbatis Angliskiy_." A tingling sensation soon followed in her ears and she brought her hands up to cover them, however only one made it. The other had been captured by Mikail. "Will you keep your word?"

While it was clear that he was speaking in Russian by how his mouth moved, she comprehended it in English. She had to remind herself to speak. "As long as I don't discover that you're plotting against everything I stand for, remember to behave and keep me updated on the situation, then I will. Is that fair?"

"I am not sure," he started, his grin broadening, "you might have to tell me what sort of behaviour is unacceptable if we end up alone like this more often."

All she could hear was her heart racing. Fear, panic and the impulse to escape overcame her- yet she stayed rooted to the floor, unable to move with their eyes still locked.

Mikail chuckled. "Don't worry, I will not do anything you do not want me to."

As he took a step back and walked over to activate the Floo, Poppy realised that she wasn't afraid of what he meant, rather she was excited about what it could lead to.

* * *

><p>Minerva remained tense as Minister Orpington lead her to the Headmaster's office for the second time in her life. The Minister refused to speak of her intentions until they were in a 'safe environment, away from elusive eavesdroppers'- which Minerva interpreted as away from Nathan keeping an eye on them, as he rightfully should. There was an odd sense of déjà vu as she climbed up the staircase behind the gargoyle and entered the room, but she wasn't quite sure why. It could have been the gleam in Evangeline's eye that gave her the unnerving feeling that she was becoming a pawn on a chessboard again.<p>

"I had originally not come here with the intention of speaking with you on this matter today, however, since I'm here, I see no reason to delay this conversation any further," Evangeline explained, then turned and gestured to the seat across from her. "Have a seat, Miss McGonagall."

Eyeing her carefully, Minerva sat down, taking note that the Minister wasn't looking at her directly before she finally addressed her.

"I remember the last time we met, you had become the world's youngest Animagus in two centuries and were keen on your mother not being aware of your new ability. I wonder, are you just as keen about keeping her in the dark about your training with Professor Dumbledore and Professor Merrythought?"

Minerva blinked, stalling a heartbeat to further assess the question. "Excuse me, but what does this have to do with you, Minister?"

Evangeline muffled a small laugh. "It has everything to do with me, dear. I'm sure you are aware that I authorised your battle and Occlumency training. I have, and will continue to invest in your advancement."

"Towards what, Minister, and why?"

"Your future, dear! Did I not make myself clear the last time we spoke? I told you that there were great opportunities in your future, and I meant every word of it."

"Enough to censor my medical records?" Minerva threw her a cold, hard, accusing stare.

The Minister blinked, lips curved slightly as she tilted her head. "You've been talking with Merrythought, haven't you?"

"You're avoiding the question."

"Indeed I am, and we're getting off topic. So tell me, do you still plan to become an Auror?"

"Without a doubt."

Evangeline's smile widened. "I'd like to know what compels you."

That request made her snap. "What compels _you_ to get out of bed in the morning, to keep calm and carry on when the Blitz was underway? What compels _you_ currently, Minister, when this war threatens everything that we stand for and is killing _thousands_ of Muggles along with several dozen wizards on a weekly basis?"

At first Minerva thought she might have spoken out of line, judging by how thin the Minister's lips became, but then her features softened and she responded, "The want to bring this war to an end, to stop the chaos, the terror, the killing."

"That is my reasoning for wanting to become an Auror."

"You realise, of course, that training to become an Auror takes a few years?" Her tone changed quickly from polite to firm and demanding. "If you so choose this path, it is not guaranteed that the war will last long enough for you to partake in. So, my question to you is, do you still wish to play your hand in this war?"

Green eyes narrowed as she glanced left at the many portraits on the walls of the study and settled upon one in particular; a witch with dark hair and eyes, a diadem of wisdom on her forehead, and whose gaze was already on her. Rowena Ravenclaw subtly shook her head.

"What," her focus returned to Evangeline as she drew in a silent breath to keep her voice steady, "exactly are you getting at, Minister?"

"That you may wish to keep your mind open to any possibilities of becoming involved sooner, if you so desired. That's all." Once again the Minister smiled, although it was tighter than her previous ones. "You may leave now, Miss McGonagall, but do keep my words in mind, and please let me know when you've reached your decision."

Minerva stood up without saying another word. Her eyes flickered to Rowena one last time, catching a glimpse of the famous witch clutching her chest and looking away.

"However," Evangeline continued, "I must ask that you be mindful of the skills that you already possess, Miss McGonagall. You're better than most of my Auror trainees already, or so I'm told. Don't let your potential be wasted in future years."

She halted mid-step and clenched her fists. _The future... in a few years... the war... Is she focusing nothing on Hogwarts at the moment? Of the monster at large and just how dangerous this could potentially be? Of the Untergang's presence here?_

"You might not get a chance to see my decision, _Minister,_ if you continue to neglect the situation here at Hogwarts and the Untergang's threat in Britain much longer!"

Minerva left the Headmaster's office without even hearing if the Minister tried to defend herself. She didn't want to hear another word from the woman's mouth.

* * *

><p>In the shadows cast by the sunset, Galatea Merrythought pawed playfully at a rat before stalking silently towards Hogsmeade. It had been a while since she used her Animagus form and she always liked to get reacquainted with her wolf-self every now and then; if only to keep her senses sharp. On this occasion, however, she hoped to put a little fear into Aberforth Dumbledore's heart.<p>

After Albus had delivered the message about Isobel's meddling, Aberforth had reportedly been shocked, but when Albus pressed him for the truth, he admitted that he had indeed sent a letter to Isobel that informed her about Minerva's Occlumency lessons. Albus had been reluctant to talk about why Aberforth did such a thing giving Galatea reason to suspect it was due to their long standing personal feud. In this case however, she couldn't care less about why Aberforth did it. Her goal was to force the man into ceasing all correspondence with Minerva's mother and if he didn't listen she'd made sure that she followed through regardless.

She heard the children in the basement of The Hogs Head as she neared the back door, laughing and pretending to do magic. In a fluid motion, she transformed and knocked on the door, then waited and waited, before her impatience got the better of her and she rapped her knuckles on the wood once more.

"Aberforth Dumbledore, I know you are in there! Let me in this instant!"

Just as her voice stopped echoing, she was rewarded. The door cracked open an inch, revealing a shady-looking wizard with an uncombed auburn beard. "Well, well, if it isn't Professor Merrythought barking at the door," he grumbled. "I half hoped you wouldn't come, given the recent chaos."

"Chaos or no, this must be dealt with, Dumbledore." Her piercing crystal eyes glowered at him. "Now are you going to let me in, or will I have to enter by force?"

The bartender grunted but protested no further, letting her inside and then showing her behind the bar. He tapped a complicated sequence on the wood panelling with his wand and a small door appeared in the wall, swinging open.

"After you."

Had she not come here to negotiate, Galatea would have dismissed his polite gesture and insisted on keeping her eyes on him. Instead she held her tongue and marched into the living quarters that smelled overwhelmingly musty and unsurprisingly with a tinge of goat.

"I know why you're here, Merrythought."

"Then you must know what I am going to ask of you."

A spark of rage ignited in the wizard's deep blue eyes. "To stop informing Mrs McGonagall that her only daughter is being trained by my brother to go to war? A war that _he_ should be fighting?" He scoffed, a sound that was deep and rough, and almost painful. "If you only knew..."

Galatea shot him a menacing glare as she stepped forward."Let me make this as clear as I possibly can; I care nothing about your family problems, Aberforth, I only demand that you keep Minerva out of them. That girl is not just your brother's protegee; she is my responsibility as well, and you have caused her trouble. If you so dare as to meddle in her life again, you _will _regret it, I can assure you of that."

"And just what makes you so sure that I'll consent? You may be a former Auror, Galatea Merrythought, but you don't-"

"Remember your little incident with the goats several summers past? I certainly do." To Galatea's inner pleasure, the bartender blanched. "You will leave _my_ Minerva alone, or be sent to Azkaban for a few weeks and be ashamed 'til the end of your days. Take your pick."

Aberforth bristled as she turned on her heel to walk out. "And just why do you care so much about this young witch anyway?"

His words stopped her cold, taking her breath as a memory she thought was long suppressed resurfaced.

"_Seanmhair! Seanmhair, amhairc _[look]_! I found a magic shell!"_

_She smiled down at the little green-eyed girl skipping merrily towards her, demanding her attention, though her eyes immediately widened at the shimmering turquoise oval she was carrying. "Luaidh_ [Darling], _cà an do lorg tha seo..." At the girl's raised brow she smirked, then repeated in English. "Where did you find this?"_

"_Faisg _[Near]_," she answered vaguely._

"_Do you know what that is?" The girl shook her head with a curious gleam in her eyes. "It is a Siren's scale and they are very rare. Some legends say that whoever finds a scale is destined to be very powerful."_

Bony fingers dug through her collar, finding the silver chain and retrieving it from under her robes. The pads of her fingers traced the sides, feeling the ridges on the edge as they slid down and thumbed the locket open.

_Galatea watched as big green eyes widened as the little girl's jaw dropped in awe and she began rotating it as she inspected it closely._

"_You keep it, Seanmhair?" The girl was beaming, grinning from ear to ear as she then held it up higher for Galatea to take. The woman blinked a few times, stunned._

"_I cannae take this, mo somaltag _[my beloved child]_. It is yours."_

_It was clear that the girl was going to be insistent judging by her pinched lips. "Cha _[No]_. I give to you. It's yours." Her big green eyes seemed to peer into Galatea's soul as she rocked up onto her toes for extra height. "Keep it, mas e do thoil e_ [please]_?"_

Pale blue eyes brimmed with tears. The anguish from so long ago erupted in her chest as she gazed down, and her heart shattered all over again as she watched the small moving picture of a young Minerva looking up at her, smiling, giggling, and gently waving her hand.

"_Ceart gu leòr _[All right]_," she relented, gently taking hold of the scale. "I will keep it."_

"_Safe and forever?"_

"_Sàbhailte _[Safe]_..." Galatea wrapped her arm around the girl, pulling her close and kissing her cheek as she repeated her words, although not entirely meaning the scale, "..._ _is a-chaoidh _[and forever]_."_

_She placed the scale in her pocket then hauled the girl up, positioning her on her hip and allowing those small nimble arms and legs wrap of hers to around her waist and neck._

"_You promise?"_

"_Mi gealladh..." Galatea tapped the small button nose in front of her. "I promise."_

The elder witch snapped the locket closed, blinked away the gathering moisture in her eyes and then slowly turned around and looked at the bartender.

"If you lost someone dear to you, would you not do _everything_ in your power to get them back? To tell them how much you love them? How much you miss them?"

Her question seemed to strike at him deep inside. Aberforth paled as his eyes glazed over and he looked away. "Yes, I would."

The sadness that came over the bartender's face let Galatea know that her reasoning had finally impressed upon him. He would not be bothering the McGonagalls, not for a while, at least.

* * *

><p>Poppy drummed her fingers against the stone wall. She was getting impatient. Both she and Mikail had taken to the floor now; Poppy against the wall perpendicular to the fireplace, while the wizard lounged in front of the fire, facing her.<p>

"Does it usually take this long?"

"For my mentor to set up a secure connection without the chance of the Untergang eavesdropping? Karkaroff may be one of Durmstrang's best professors, but he is no miracle worker. Relax, Poppy, it has only been an hour. Sometimes it takes six."

"Six hours?"

He hummed, affirming her query. "What is the matter? Anxious about how to keep yourself preoccupied?"

The image of him standing so close to her as he had before, his face nearly touching hers, mouths so near that their breath mingled, flashed before her mind and she stiffened. Feeling heat rise to her face, she turned and looked away, breaking their lingering eye contact.

"I'm only anxious about Rola, Min and Gusta. They'll start wondering where I am soon, if they haven't already."

"What will you tell them?"

"That I got caught up in the Hospital wing, talking with Helena or some other rational explanation."

A half-smile broke Mikail's face. "This is not _'rational'_?"

"No, it most certainly is not."

Mikail tilted his head to the side, his amusement returning. "So you don't make many impulsive decisions?"

"No, not many, but there is a reason the Sorting Hat didn't want to put me in Ravenclaw. It said I was a little too impetuous."

His brow quirked. "Are you being impetuous now?"

"A little," she replied, "but keeping my sister safe is rational, and Rolanda would agree. In fact, I'm quite sure if our places were switched, she'd be doing the same." Poppy sighed, hesitating slightly to bring up Minerva given the situation, but she reasoned it would be for the best. "If it really is the Untergang that attacked Toby, just how bad would that mean things are for Minerva and her family?"

"I am... not sure. It would all depend on their motive. Hopefully they were just trying to instill fear, that's typically the first step, but if not then... well, let us hope it does not come to that."

Just then the fire flared, flashing green, and caused Poppy to jump and press her back further against the wall while Mikail moved forward to address the head in the flames.

"Mikail?" a crisp voice called.

"I am here, Master."

"What are you calling about, boy? You should have been in class when you contacted me."

Mikail cleared his throat. "Something has come up. I need to know if the Untergang targeted a third Auror family owl."

"Just the Vance and Bones families. You are not in danger, are you?"

Despite his harsh tone, Poppy noted that Karkaroff sounded genuinely concerned for Mikail.

"No, I am not- and that is not why I am calling. If the Untergang did not attack another, then does that mean that the Anhänger are now performing operations here too?"

Karkaroff growled. "The Dark One wouldn't _dare_ put his forces in Britain, not yet. I suppose the splinter Untergang group could have done it, though, so do not discount their presence. Why do you ask?"

Mikail cast a fleeting glance in Poppy's direction. "It is nothing. Has there been any news of that Nightingale group?"

"We identified that one of the key leaders was _Sgiath_, do you remember who that is?"

"He is someone very close to Merrythought."

"Yes, which is why I deliberately called off the search party. I did not want them finding and killing _Sgiath_ off while there was the chance that Merrythought would suspect you."

"You did that for me..." Mikail's jaw slackened for a moment, taken aback by Karkaroff's actions. "Master, if the Dark One realises what you have done-"

"Do not worry about me, my boy. I made a vow to your father before your mother died to keep you free from the Untergang, and I will keep my word or die trying. Just as you will keep yours."

Poppy held her breath, waiting, praying, hoping that whatever Mikail had promised was inherently good.

"I'm doing everything I can," he answered, a touch of pride shining in his eyes.

"Good. Now you should leave, as should I."

"Until next time, Master."

When the emerald fire returned to its usual amber, Poppy got to her feet keeping her hand in her pocket, ready to draw her wand at any second.

"What did you promise him?" she demanded, stalking towards him as he stood up as well.

"To keep someone of my mentor's personal interest out of danger."

Poppy's lips pinched. "Why is your mentor interested in someone _here_?"

"Vell, let me put it more plainly, I think you vill understand this way," Mikail stopped speaking in his native tongue. "If my suspicions are correct, that said person is Minerva."

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed and happy Monday everyone!<br>~LinK**


	43. Perplexing Woes part III

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

~By Your Side, Tenth Avenue North

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Goodness, it's been a while. Two snowstorms during mid-terms, a car crash, and a few other personal matters got in the way. Oh and my betas have been gleefully gallivanting across Australia for the past few weeks ;)

**Beta 1 [Em]: **Gallivanting is over now. I apologise for being so slack - feel free to take it out on me and Spin lol

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 35 - Perplexing Woes, part III<strong>

**November 20th, 1942 (continued):  
><strong>

Poppy blinked. She felt like she'd just been hit with a stunner and couldn't decide whether she wanted to smack Mikail or kiss him, and was beyond frustrated that he hadn't told her about his promise to Karkaroff before, yet she was overjoyed that he wasn't out to kill her sister.

"What?" was all that came out of her mouth.

"Surely you're not that surprised?"

"Surprised that you know about Minerva, no; surprised that you're protecting her-" the scene between him and Riddle flashed in her mind, "maybe a little, but I'm more astounded that you didn't tell me, or any of us before now! Why keep it a secret?"

"Other than vhat might happen if Merrythought got vord that I knew..." He looked at her intently, searching for something then asked, "Does she know vhy they're after her?"

"Only that she's being trained."

A peculiar expression washed over Mikail, and she couldn't decide if he was disturbed by the information or pleased, before he nodded.

"Then there's your answer."

"That's not-"

"No, but it is all I should say," his voice hardened. "If Minerva has yet to realise it, then it's for the best."

The witch watched as he turned away from her, unable to move, completely aghast at his answer. "For the 'best'? How can _you_ know what's best for _my_ sister?"

"Merlin's beard, Poppy, can't you just-"

In one swift motion, Mikail spun around, grasped the back of her neck and leaned in so quickly that she didn't have time to react. However, as the sensation of his lips brushing against hers stole her breath away, any protest Poppy may have had melted away with it. The last time he'd done this she'd been too stunned to think about responding, but this time she didn't forget. She was a little timid at first, but as he slowly and tenderly encouraged her, all uncertainty and nervousness gradually disappeared.

"Please, trust me?" Mikail whispered against her lips. "There are just some things that I cannot say, nor should ever be said. Knowing that the Untergang is after her is enough."

_And that you're not out to kill her..._ she thought silently as she considered his words. She didn't like secrets being kept from her, but he had allowed her to listen to his conversation with his mentor, and she did say that she would trust him if he did that.

"All right, I'll trust you," Poppy breathed. "But if you step one foot out of line, it won't just be Merrythought that's out to hex you."

Mikail chuckled, his hand finding hers and squeezing it. "I vould expect nothing less."

"I- I just have one more question, though, if you will?" she stuttered as butterflies continued to flutter in her stomach and she blushed again. "Why does your mentor care about Minerva?"

"I know that he vants to prevent the Untergang from turning her, but I get the feeling that there's something more. I asked him once if he felt that he owed Merrythought after betraying her and almost leaving her for dead in a blizzard, but it wasn't that." Mikail swallowed. "Karkaroff seems afraid every time the topic comes up. I have never known my mentor to be easily frightened, but vhen he is, he's usually able to hide it. In this case, and for vhatever the reason, it terrifies him. That alone is reason enough for me to protect your sister even vithout my vow."

Poppy pursed her lips. "Then what did you mean by telling Riddle 'she isn't yours to take'?"

"That she isn't his- nor the Untergang's -to take and bend at their vill. I hate to say it, but I almost hope the Ministry does 'take' her. It's better than the Untergang."

"You're talking about her as if she's a pawn on a chessboard." The apprentice crossed her arms, staring him down.

"Isn't she, though? No student in Hogwarts vould ever be taught Occlumency- yes, I know she's had lessons, it wasn't hard to miss the white glaze in her eyes after she came back from her Animangus Studies class," he interjected before she could. "Nor vould anyone be trained by two professors with the Minister's approval unless there was an ulterior motive. Minerva vants to get involved in the var and become an Auror, but that takes three years. The Minister needs everyone who can possibly end this var on her side, and I bet you she's got her eyes on Minerva- regardless of her age."

"You've picked all of this up, more than Rola or I have, without us telling you anything." He looked at her, but she found herself unable to keep his gaze. "All this time, you've let us think that you were with the Untergang and out for Minerva, when in reality all you've been doing is trying to protect her." Mikail didn't speak, nor did he have to. His intention was interpreted by a simple touch of the hand as his fingers glided over hers, then threaded between them. "I've been a fool."

"No, you have not. Your desire for your sister's velfare was vell placed and I gave you all reason to believe I was conspiring against you. Besides," his thumb brushed over her hand, making her heart flutter, "I liked seeing you so passionate."

A smirk tugged at her lips. "Liked?"

"Thoroughly enjoyed," he corrected himself, "and still do."

Poppy's smirk turned into a full smile. "That's better." She kissed Mikail's cheek, then tightened her grasp on his hand. "Now how do you propose we get to the Great Hall for dinner without causing suspicion?"

She listened to his idea with interest, but as they began to walk out of the Room of Requirement, her thoughts churned over their previous conversation and with it came her own terror of what could possibly compel a man such as Mikail's mentor to keep Minerva- a witch he had never met -safe from the Untergang's influence.

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore exhaled a heavy sighed as he placed his head in his heads. He'd been studying the centaurs' map of the Forbidden Forest, trying to fathom where the Untergang would dare keep camp while so close to the school. He had a pile of other tasks that he needed to accomplish, most of which were for the Ministry, but defending Hogwarts- and especially Minerva -against the shadow group was his top priority.<p>

He checked his watch and frowned; Galatea was five minutes late. Usually that wouldn't be much cause for concern, though while he hated to think of it, he reasoned that there was a possibility that Aberforth had given her more trouble than she had expected. He didn't like the other thought that his mind had conjured either, not when the Untergang was somewhere in the Forest.

He glanced back at the map and told himself that there was nothing to worry about repeating it like a mantra until he heard a knock at his office door. With a wave of his hand the door unlocked and opened to reveal the fearless woman wearing a heavy blue tartan outer robe and furred scarf.

"Good evening, Galatea."

"Good evening, Albus," she replied with a smile and as she shut the door behind her.

"I dearly hope it was not my brother that caused you to run behind schedule."

"No, definitely not," Galatea asserted as she removed her winter apparel. "Aberforth was stubborn, but when I reminded him that wolves are very much higher on the food chain than goats, he saw reason."

Albus smirked softly as he played host hanging up the heavy robe for his guest. "I'm glad to hear it. Tea?"

"I think that would do wonders for my old bones."

"Is the cold weather affecting you more this year?" he asked innocently, trying not to seem as if he noticed her health decreasing this year.

"I guess you could say that; although really, I am just becoming more susceptible to everything, as much as I hate to admit it." They moved into his personal quarters where two steaming cups of tea were waiting. "But just to allay the fears I know you were trying not to have, I am late because of Rominara." The elder witch sat down, a bit slower than usual, wrapping both hands around the cup as Albus joined her. "She was worried about Cayden, and rightfully so, given the events that have occurred."

"Has Isobel taken precautionary measures?"

Galatea exhaled a deep sigh as her shoulders sank, her pale eyes staring into her tea.

"I dinnae know," her voice wavered, "she has yet to communicate with me at all, despite the severity of the situation. I can only hope and pray that she has reset the wards and strengthened them with a Fidelity Charm as I asked her to do. I haven't had a chance to talk to Minerva again either. The letter she received shook her, possibly more so than the knowledge that her family is at risk. I worry about how she's coping." Galatea shook her head solemnly, before she glanced up at him again, her crystal eyes suddenly darkening with spite. "Has _dear_ Evangeline or the Headmaster caused any further troubles while I've been out?"

"Not that I'm aware of, though Evangeline has yet to actually leave Hogwarts." Galatea's lips thinned and he decided it best to proceed with caution. "I know you and Evangeline haven't always seen eye to eye, but am I mistaken to think that something happened between the two of you recently?"

A tense silence settled between them and Albus watched as her hand clenched, eyes burning with fury.

"The _Minister,_ along with many of her predecessors,meddled in something that they had no business with," she ground out through her teeth. "I have yet to find out why- though I fear there will be an almighty storm when I do." Galatea took another sip of her tea and seemed to relax as she redirected the conversation."I assume the Centaurs have yet to find anything?"

Albus began to nod as she drank her tea and was about to voice his fears of being unable to find the Untergang, when a flare of blinding light exploded behind him and a cry from his familiar rang in his ears. It was a song of urgency.

* * *

><p>Minerva leaned against the wall as she looked out of the window, waiting for Rolanda and Augusta so they could go to dinner together. She couldn't stop replaying the conversation she had with Evangeline Orpington. Becoming an Auror had been her life's goal since her very first lesson with Professor Dumbledore five years ago and once the war had started she'd only become more determined. As much as she hated to admit it, the Minister had a point; a lot could happen in three years and she definitely wanted to play a part in it. If she were honest, it wasn't just because she wanted to help end the war, she also felt that all of her skills and training would be wasted if she didn't participate. Professor Dumbledore clearly saw her potential to make a difference, as did Galatea and even the Minister.<p>

She tried thinking of alternatives; if in the very unlikely scenario that there wouldn't be a war to fight in when she left school, what would she do with her life? Would she still want to become an Auror, or would take the path of research and further studies in Transfiguration? The answer wasn't easy. Minerva felt torn between the possibilities, but still felt that she would prefer to lean towards the Aurors even if the war was over, partly due to her mother's wish for her to go into research and the stubborn, but more so to the rebellious Gryffindor inside her that wanted action.

Sighing, Minerva closed her eyes, yet they instantly opened again when a male voice whispered in her ear.

"_Duil_?"

Instinct took over.

She fished her wand out as her left hand reached to grab the invisible being, before her wrists were suddenly restrained by another set of hands.

"Steady, lass, it's me!"

"_Broc_?"

"Aye."

Her lips thinned with frustration. "You really should start uttering a safe word or something before you sneak up on me!"

"How about 'Kellas cat'?"

"Scotland's mythic black wild cat?"

"Yes, indeed."

Minerva heard the wizard chuckle and she rolled her eyes. It was better than him scaring her half to death at least. "It'll do."

"Good, now listen, something strange is going on," Nathan's tone sounded serious and Minerva felt her heart race with fear once again. "I don't know what exactly, but I trust my instincts and I'm praying it's nothing to do with whatever's going on in the Forest. You and your friends need to be on your guard. If I weren't so worried about Hogsmeade, I'd be following you, but unfortunately, that has to come first."

"Thank you for informing me, _Broc_." She felt him release her hand. "Be careful."

There was a moment's pause before Nathan finally spoke up. "You just worry about yourself, lass."

Chatter echoed through the corridor as students began to make their way down to dinner and she lost the sound of his footsteps. She felt Rolanda's anxiety grow as she looked up to see her and Augusta coming down the staircase looking worried.

"Have you seen Poppy?" Augusta asked immediately.

"No, why? Where's she gone?"

Rolanda crossed her arms as they walked down together. "She supposedly went to the Hospital wing with Mikail, but that was a over an hour ago."

Minerva took a moment to rationalize the situation trying not to let fear affect her judgement. "Well, she might already be in the Great Hall and if she's not, then we can start searching. What did your mother say?"

"Nothing new, I'm afraid. She just wanted to make sure I wasn't worrying too much about her, but I'll write to her tomorrow, let today's chaos end first."

_And hope it doesn't get worse tomorrow,_ Rolanda's thought echoed in her mind.

* * *

><p>"Gracious, Fawkes!" Galatea exclaimed, trying to blink away the white spots from her eyes. "Whatever is the..." her vision cleared just as her awareness registered that there was someone else in the room with them. The chair behind her glided across the floor as she stood up, her eyes wide and fearful as she gazed at the rather pale witch before her. "H-Helena?"<p>

The head matron stumbled forward and despite Albus's best efforts, Galatea caught her first sending a furious glare at the phoenix. "What the devil are you doing, Fawkes? She needs to be resting!"

"Don't blame him," Helena rasped, leaning heavily on Galatea, "he did what I asked."

Galatea stiffened, her anger coursing through her body. She grasped Helena's shaky hands, fighting to keep her voice steady. "_You_ asked him to-"

Fawkes crowed a reply, interrupting her, and she was about to snap at the fiery creature when Albus turned to face Helena.

"Is it true?" the wizard queried. Galatea frowned, momentarily shocked by his strange question, as Helena took a deep breath before answering him.

"If you know what he has already showed me, then yes." The matron took in another shaky breath and Galatea felt like she couldn't hold her close enough. The fear of Helena's health being once again at risk was almost overpowering, but as she was about to say something Helena seemed to calm, and the most noticeable signs of her weakened state dissipated. "Albus, will you explain everything to Minerva please? If she has further questions, direct her to my office. I imagine we'll be Flooing to Headquarters soon, so she'll have to hurry."

Galatea wasn't sure what to make of the somewhat secretive conversation Helena and Albus were having in front of her, but her mind was already working overtime to try and sort it all out.

_Helena wouldn't have asked Fawkes to bring her here unless it was important, _Galatea reasoned as her heart rate accelerated. _And she wouldn't want Minerva to concentrate on more than her schooling unless it pertained to-_

"Helena," Galatea reached out, cupping the side of the her face and turning it gently so their eyes met, "is it my brother?"

"Not here, Galatea," Helena whispered sternly, only intensifying Galatea's fear.

"Yes here! Right here and now! Is my brother alive or not?"

Galatea waited impatiently as Helena signalled for Albus to leave. He hesitated for a moment before doing as she had indicated before leaving them alone. She gazed into Helena's eyes, as they glanced at Fawkes, before finally meeting hers again.

"Gregor is alive, but..."

Crystal eyes hardened. "But _what?"_

Helena sighed. "You're not going to like it."

"I thought as much, seeing as you are being so damn apprehensive!" She paused as a small look of hurt passed over Helena's features and struggled to calm herself. "Please, just tell me what has happened."

"Toby wasn't attacked by the Untergang..."

* * *

><p>Alarm bells went off in Minerva's head as she entered the Great Hall. Mikail was sitting quietly at the Gryffindor table without Poppy, and she nearly commented on that face when she appeared by their side barely a minute later. She appeared oddly happy, even when Rolanda asked about where she had been. Poppy merely smiled, then explained that she had visited Helena after accompanying Mikail to the Hospital wing and that it had taken longer than expected. Minerva was tempted to press for more; Poppy's answer explained where she had been, but it didn't explain the stolen glances that were passing between both her and Mikail while they ate.<p>

Her attention, however, was pulled in another direction when she felt a little prickle of uncertainty when she noticed Professor Dumbledore enter the hall and walk her way. She studied him closely, and as hard as she tried, she couldn't read the look on his face. When he asked her to follow him, she obeyed, ignoring the whispers from many of her peers. They walked in silence after exiting the Great Hall, and continued to not speak until he was certain they were alone.

"Miss McGonagall, there has been a mistake of sorts- it seems your family's bird was not attacked by our enemies, rather, our allies. Fawkes has informed us that the bird was 'attacked' by a member of _Dubhadh_'s group in an effort to help us locate them. Professor Merrythought and I believe that your family is in no more danger than it was before this incident."

Minerva blinked twice and could hardly believe her ears. She knew that his last statement wasn't entirely true but she managed to feign a smile and hide her personal concerns.

"I see. Well, I'm glad that my family's safety isn't as bad as we feared. Do you know if the group is all right?"

"I am not sure, I believe most have made it, but it would be best to question for Madam Nurix. If you would like to speak with her, and Professor Merrythought, I suggest you hurry, they indicated that they were leaving for Headquarters soon."

"I'll do that, could you perhaps inform my brother of the situation please?"

"Of course."

"Thank you, Prof-"

"Kellas Cat."

Professor Dumbledore whirled around, his wand out and left arm shielding her before Minerva could utter a word.

"_Broc_, that had better be you!" Dumbledore said tersely.

"It is, Professor," the witch placed her arm on his, lowering it. "He and I agreed upon the safe word this afternoon."

The professor glanced to where he had heard Nathan's voice. "I assume you're here to escort her, then?"

"I'm heading the same direction, so I volunteered to take her. The _Spideagan_ will be more than happy for her to join the gathering."

Minerva felt a hand take hers and smiled as Professor Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. Her heart raced at the idea of returning to the Nightingale Headquarters- she wanted to leave Hogwarts, just for a while, mainly get her thoughts in order_._

"If you wish to go, Miss McGonagall, and if Professor Merrythought agrees, then you are free to go, but please be mindful of the time you spend there."

"Yes, good, come along _Dùil,_ we have less than ten minutes."

Minerva felt herself being pulled along and went with the invisible man after casting a final appreciative glance to Professor Dumbledore. Nathan let go of her after a while and let his awareness be known to her as she timed her footsteps to the sound of his.

"I hope you're prepared," the wizard said as they rushed up the stairs.

Despite knowing she couldn't see him, Minerva cast a glance to her left. "For what?"

"_Faol_. She's not going to be happy."

"Why not? She has her brother back and my màthair isn't being targeted by an international war group."

"Yes, but they could have also lead an Untergang force to Hogwarts. That and the fact that one of the team members broke protocol by attacking your family's owl and that just makes this worse."

"We don't know who?"

"Not yet, though I'd wager two hundred Galleons that it was _Sgiath_."

"Is the team alive though?"

"I think so, _Òran _said that she counted all nine Nightingales in the forest. They're resting at headquarters now."

Minerva's pulse quickened, there was no telling how much energy that had taken out of Helena. "She was in the forest?"

"Fawkes apparently took her there, that brilliant bird is the reason we found them at all."

"Is _Òran _all right?"

"Stop fretting, love. I'm sure _Faol_ has done more than our fair share of worrying about _Òran_ already and you'll see for yourself soon enough. Now, enough chatter, let's get moving."

With a sigh, Minerva obeyed and they made their way to the Hospital Wing quickly, and as Minerva suspected, Helena looked extremely tired. She was leaning a little more on her cane than yesterday and her breathing was laboured.

"There you two are," she greeted them. "_Dùil,_ come with me, dear. _Broc,_ my office Floo has been activated for you."

"How is _Faol_?" Nathan asked.

Helena sighed. "She's just having a moment alone, but I'd bet my wand that she's still extremely unhappy."

"I'd take that bet," he chuckled.

"Smart man. I will see you at Headquarters."

Nathan nodded while stepping into the fireplace as Helena followed Minerva inside her office and the moment she saw Galatea staring out the window, there was no doubt that Helena had been correct. The professor was trembling and both hands were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white. Just one glance at Galatea's face was enough to stop Minerva in her tracks, the pain etched on her features was heartbreaking. She looked like she was in mourning, but also like a wolf ready to kill at the same time. Minerva didn't know what to say or do that could possibly help, or at least wouldn't make things worse, so she stayed quiet and let Helena do the talking.

"Are you all right?"

"_Tha mise tuigibh _[Am I all right]?" Galatea questioned as she turned to face the matron. "I should be asking _you_ that."

"My mistake, I should have asked if you were any better."

"_Cha_ [No], I most certainly am not! I am _ainmeineach_ [furious]! _Dè a tha fiughair air_ [What do you expect]?" she shouted. "Merlin, I cannae even keep to one language, that is how furious, I am!"

Minerva blinked, stunned that she understood any of what the witches were saying. It didn't make any sense. She hadn't learned much of the language except a few words from the Gaelic elders. _Unless, of course, I had learned more when I was little and my memories were erased. Màthair, nor anyone else in the village ever used much Gaelic, so it must be from before the memories were tampered with. It wouldn't be the first time that my memories have come back to me unexpectedly._

"You know why they did it," Helena's soft voice brought Minerva back from her thoughts as she listened to their continuing conversation.

"_Ceart_ [correct], but that does not change the fact that their actions took us down a path that we did not have to go down in order to keep Isobel safe. After they made us believe that she was a target, if that wasn't bad enough, the came to Hogwarts, without a thought of the Untergang following them!" Galatea growled. "And do nae try to dissuade me, _cha dèan e dad nas math _[it won't do any good]."

"_Tha fhios agam_ _tuilleadh math _[I know too well]," Helena muttered, rolling her eyes. Despite her rather friendly tone, Minerva noticed that the matron's hands were softly clenched, even though she seemed quite calm.

_She's keeping them closed on purpose- restraining herself from doing, or saying something... _It came to Minerva in a moment of clarity. _She's preventing herself from making physical contact with Galatea around me!_

Galatea sighed and turned to face her. "Oh Merlin. Sorry, darling, you must be rather confused."

"No, it's all right. Strangely, I think I understood what was said."

Helena's brow rose while Galatea merely nodded and glanced towards the fireplace, resting her arm on the mantlepiece. "I assume you have been informed of the situation. Do you have any questions?"

"How did Màthair take the news?"

"She was furious, as she should be. We didn't have much time to talk, but maybe that was for the best."

"She didn't say anything about Cayden, did she?" Minerva swallowed. The thought of her youngest brother being at the blunt end of their mother's anger for simply confiding his worries was almost too much. He was too young and very much ill informed of the danger he could have caused.

Still stewing in her anger, Galatea did not notice her change in tone, but Helena did and her expression softened. "She didn't mention anything about your brother. Do you wish to speak with them?"

"If it's possible, that would be wonderful."

"I'll have _Ath-sgal_ set up a connection for you here in fifteen minutes."

Galatea's grip on the mantlepiece strengthened, her voice still conveying her underlining ire, "Just so you are aware, Isobel will no doubt still be furious."

"Is there anything that doesn't infuriate her?" the matron muttered under her breath.

"Unfortunately, I cannot blame her this time."

"No, of course not." Helena cleared her throat and focused her attention on Minerva. "Is there anything else we can do for you, dear?"

"I'd like to attend the _Spideagan_ meeting."

Galatea whipped her head around looking astonished. "Absolutely not! Your safety has been compromised enough of late and it would not surprise me in the least if rumours of what you are up to start appearing soon."

"That's what the time-turner is for, and if I remember correctly I only promised not to use it over the weekend. It's only Friday."

"You still need to focus on restricting your use of that bloody device, not looking for ways to use it more."

"_Faol_, if she doesn't attend then the _Spidgean_ will no doubt be suspicious."

"At this point, _Òran_, they can all sod off! They know full well that she is a student, and as such, should be at Hogwarts."

"Yes, but after what happened last time, this might give them some hope, a better sense that what they're doing is the right thing."

The professor scoffed. "They do not need her for inspiration or motivation. If there was even the smallest bit of good in the attack on you, it was that it strengthened their resolve to win this war and defeat the Untergang for good."

Helena threw a piercing stare. "You're straying into dangerous territory, _Faol_. You know I don't like it when my attack is talked about in that manner."

"_A leisgeul_ [I apologise]," she sighed, grabbing a handful of Floo powder. "I expect it shall not be the last time either. I almost pity _Sgiath_," she said absently, "even if he wasn't the one who fired on Toby."

"Many of the _Spideagan_ will be there. If she wants to, she has a full right to attend."

"Fine," Galatea faced Minerva, "just keep in mind of how much time you use. The last thing I need to hear is that the loathsome device has drained away your life!"

The fire place flashed green and then Galatea was gone. Minerva watched as Helena's hands relaxed before she then nodded in the direction of the sofa nearby.

"Sit down, dear, we have a few minutes before it's our turn." Minerva did as she was told and waited for Helena to do the same. "I want you to know that didn't really mean what I said, that you should go because of your natural ability to inspire people. I know you want to go to get of this place, and I can't blame you for it. I did, however, mean what I said. You really are an inspiration." Helena looked at her for a moment before continuing. "I don't like how much pressure is being put on you, especially at your age, but you have handled so many stressful situations like the brilliant young woman I know you to be, and I am so very proud of you."

"Thank you."

"That being said," concern lined the matron's face, "I know this must have shaken you quite a bit."

Minerva focused on the flickering fire. "It's over and done with now. The immediate threat is no longer an issue and my family is safe for the time being, which is more than can be said for the Bones and Vance families, so I count myself fortunate."

"But that's not what caused this solemn look in your eyes when you turned away?"

"No, " the green-eyed witch answered quietly, fearing her voice might break if she spoke any louder. She wasn't ready to talk about it; not when Galatea was so furious that she could hardly keep herself together and definitely not when they only had a minute before they were to be travelling by Floo. She needed to have her thoughts in order as much as possible if she was to attend the meeting with the Nightingales.

"Is it Cayden's letter?" When Minerva didn't answer Helena pressed again. "What did he say?"

Minerva closed her eyes and swallowed. "He's scared."

"About the Untergang, or... your mother?" The matron suddenly gripped her shoulder and Minerva looked up at her. "Is he safe?"

"He didn't mention anything about being in danger."

"Thank Merlin," Helena sighed, appearing immensely relieved.

The Gryffindor took note of this, but she did not press it for the time being and instead changed topic. "How are you feeling? I hope you didn't hurt yourself again."

Helena eyed her for a moment. "I will probably feel it in the morning, but I shall be better in a few days."

"Well if you need my help tonight, let me know."

Grey eyes sparkled. "You're a dear, you know that?" Helena let the question hang in the air for a moment as she squeezed Minerva's hand. "Now come on, the Floo will activate soon."

"Are we transporting directly to the Fire Room?" The Gryffindor asked as she stood up.

"Yes, and I imagine there will be a few others already there by the time our fireplace is active." The older witch braced herself on the arm of the sofa as Minerva offered her hand. With a smile and a word of thanks, Helena took the aid, stood up and Summoned her cane. The fire changed colour a moment later.

"Go on through, dear, I'll follow."

Minerva nodded and in a brilliant flash of emerald flames, she Flooed to the Fire Room. Instantly she knew that she wasn't alone. A white haired witch with a scar on her cheek was watching her as she stepped out of the fireplace.

"A pleasant surprise to see you again, _Dùil._"

The sound of Helena transporting in gave Minerva enough time to rack her brain and remember who the woman was.

"It's good to see you again, _Ath-sgal._"

"You remembered, good. I had hoped your last visit hadn't shaken your memory- speaking of which," _Ath-sgal_ glanced at Helena, "shouldn't you be resting, _Òran_?"

"And here I was hoping I wouldn't be hearing that again. Thank you for your concern, _Ath-sgal,_ but it is not needed. Please activate my flood again in five minutes for a secure connection to the McGonagall Manor."

"I'll do that, however... _Duil,_ do keep an eye on her please?"

"I've already offered my help."

"Glad to hear it." Her lips curved into a smile for a moment before she left the room.

Helena rolled her eyes, gestured for Minerva to follow her to the side of the room as she then leaned in to whisper in Minerva's ear. "Between you and me, I think _she_ should have been named Badger."

Minerva giggled, but immediately stopped when more Nightingales began to Floo into the room and all the _Spideagan_ specialists except for _Eidheann_ entered through the door.

"Did you really find them in the Forbidden Forest, _Òran_?" Filius Flitwick squeaked.

"Yes, _Losgann_, they-"

"Are they all right?" _Abhainn_ and _Paindeal_ queried in unison.

"How did they get there?"

"It's a miracle they survived at all!"

"What's the charge for?"

"All right everyone, calm down!" Nathan ordered as he entered the room. "I know there's a lot of confusion, so let me brief you all. Earlier today three birds travelling to Hogwarts were attacked, all belonging to Auror families. They were hit with hexes in a style similar to what the Untergang uses, however unlike the other two, one was hit nearby the castle. It was feared that the Untergang was in the Forbidden Forest, but thankfully it was our missing North Asian group instead. They attacked the bird in hopes that we would find them, which means they broke the rule of getting innocents involved- worse still, this family is already at risk."

He glanced at Minerva and Helena, then quickly back to the other Nightingales. "Needless to say, our Captain is furious, not only for breaking the rules, but because this could have potentially driven the enemy straight to Hogwarts." Minerva was surprised at how silence fell over the large group of people. Nathan then continued, "I advise you to be wary, and realise that her Gaelic will likely be mixed. She is very angry, but I doubt she will do anything drastic despite how it might seem. We better head in now."

Minerva watched as he turned and the others followed. She glanced at Helena as they waited for the last to leave.

"_Òran,_ what's the worst judgement that _Faol_ passed?"

"There has only been two previous circumstances in which there were traitors, and they killed themselves before facing _Faol._ The greatest punishment she gave was for memory removal and then had them start a new life with a job at the Ministry. It hasn't happened often, but when it does, it's usually very serious. They are either no longer trustworthy or they wish to leave the Nightingales, which equates to the same thing."

She followed Helena out the door. The matron's uneasiness was palpable, her grey eyes flickered around the Manor and her hand stayed on her wand at all times, even as everyone gathered in the grand foyer. Galatea stood at the top of the marble staircase, staring down at the group. If there was one give away to how Galatea was feeling on the inside it was her eyes, which were currently transfixed on the bedraggled North Asia group in a deathly stare.

Gregor was easy to spot. He stood strong, staring up at his sister with a relatively calm expression on his face and _Dubhadh_'s team behind him.

"Whose idea was this?" she demanded, her steely voice instilling fear within everyone in the room, even sending a shiver down Minerva's spine.

"It was mine, _all_ mine," Gregor stated without hesitation as he stepped forward. Minerva heard a small gasp from her right and tore her gaze from the unfolding scene to see _Eidheann_, ashen faced with a hand covering her mouth.

Galatea didn't pause or quicken her step as she made her away down the stairs, her eyes now centered upon Gregor. "You idiot! _Tha thu dearg amadan_ [You bloody idiot]! _Dè a' dùraigeadh _[How dare you do such a thing]?"

"_Tha mi duilich_ [I'm sorry]." Gregor met her a few stairs up and boldly held her by the shoulders, his face clearly expressing just how exhausted he was, but also his own emotional pain at watching Galatea break with anger.

"_Do uabhasach, gun cridhe, a baoiteag _[You horrible, heartless, worm]!" she shouted, making her anguish known. "I would smack you if I were not so happy to see you alive!"

"_Tha mi duilich_," he repeated, "_cha b' ann nam dheòin a rinn mi e_ [I didn't do it on purpose]."

"_Taigh na Galla ort_ [Damn you]! Not only did you put all of Hogwarts at risk, but you made me think Isobel _bi ann an gàbhadh bharrachd_ [was in further danger]. Robert, Cayden, Minerva _agus_ [and] Malcom... all of them!" Galatea murmured, her voice lowering two octaves. "_Chan eil gu bràth tuilleadh _[Never do that again]."

"_Agus guma fada bhuam e gu bràth feudar_ [Hopefully I will never have to]. _Cha mi robh cothrom aice an uair seo _[I had no choice this time]. _Thoir mathanas do mise_..._ma 's e ur toil e,_ _piuthrag_ [Forgive me... please, little sister]?_"_

Galatea exhaled shakily. "_Tha do air maitheadh dhut, ach a dh'aindeoin chùis_ [You have been forgiven, but all the same]." Tears welled in her pale blue eyes and she grabbed Gregor, pulling him closer and hugging him tight. "_B' e mo eagal de bharail do marbh, Bràthair_ [I feared you were dead, brother]."

"But I'm not." Gregor pulled back after a moment, then glanced at _Dubhadh _and his team, "and everyone has come back."

Galatea turned to look at the brave Nightingale group, all battle and weather worn and no doubt ready to sleep in a comfortable bed after a hot meal, then surreptitiously wiped away her tears.

"_Ceart_... you are right, _Sgiath._ Everyone is back, safe and sound, and nothing terrible has come of this. That's all that matters. All of you, please, go down to the dining hall and put your worries aside for an hour. We will have your families contacted and safe houses secured for you all to spend time with them for a while. _Gucag_ [Bubble], will you please ask the elves to prepare a feast? These ladies and gentlemen have more than deserved it."

"Yes, Ma'am!" a very round old man grinned, then went on his merry way to fulfill the order.

* * *

><p>The dining hall's long table had been extended to comfortably seat the near thirty Nightingales. Minerva sat near the middle with Helena opposite her and <em>Eidheann<em> on her left. Gregor and Nathan were next to Galatea, who rightfully took the head of the table. Everyone was talking excitedly about the accomplished mission, everyone except Minerva. Despite the fact that dinner had been served before Professor Dumbledore came, she hadn't eaten much. Even her ginger newts remained untouched. The conversation around her was like a haze in her mind; Minerva was hearing it, but not really comprehending it.

She hadn't been trying to block it out, but as she became more weary from her lack of sleep, thoughts of her mother swarmed in her mind and she lost all sense of what was happening around her. It started simply as her remembering Cayden's letter and being fearful for him again, but it evolved into worrying on a scale similar to the panic and fear she felt when Helena had been attacked. The whole situation was eating at her. It pained her terribly that she didn't know what was going on, that she couldn't do anything for Cayden, or her mother.

It was funny. Despite how much she distrusted and despised her mother before, the idea of her struggling with a mental affliction as the answer for everything struck something deep within her. She wouldn't go so far as to say that she felt sympathetic, but she felt something aside from hatred at least.

_If the disorder really exists, what are you achieving by leaving me in the dark, Màthair? If I have inherited it, what have you gained by not telling me? Has it been your goal all along to leave me without knowledge of it? To pretend that it doesn't exist?_

"So tell us, _Dubhadh,_ how did you manage to fend off the Untergang from finding you?" _Eidheann_ asked.

"I don't think we did, to be honest."

"What do you mean?" Galatea questioned this time.

"We knew we were being followed," Gregor answered. "We're quite sure the Untergang knew where exactly we were for a while, but then let us go."

The room fell silent, not even the sound of someone chewing reached Minerva's sensitive ears.

_Or is that what you've been planning all along... why you erased my memories in the first place? You don't want me to know about it... but why? Do I not have a right to know, especially if it will affect me as well?_

"Considering you were there, _Sgiath_, I have to wonder if they simply did not wish to have me personally slaughter them. By all accounts, they are not prepared for us to attack them yet- nor are we against them. They wouldn't want to spark an all out war."

"Or they were simply protecting _him_," Helena spoke up. "They didn't want to make you angry and start interrogating him."

"We do not know if the boy is part of them, yet," Galatea insisted.

"Nevertheless, it is a possibility."

"One that we shouldn't press until we know more," Gregor added.

_Màthair what are you after? How long do you have before you're lost forever, before you turn on __**everyone**__ and let them think that you're doing it out of hatred..._ She felt her throat and chest constrict with grief. _Just how different would our lives be if you hadn't... would you have been-_

"I have not heard you take neutrality for a very long time, Bràthair." Galatea's voice thankfully cut off her thoughts. Minerva glanced around the room, trying to deduce what was happening.

"Yeah, well, you never know." A teasing smile curved Gregor's lips. "I could just be changing topics so we can all eat with a little less tension."

Laughter rippled around the table followed by the sound of silverware tapping against plates as the Nightingales returned to their meal once again. Minerva checked her wristwatch and pursed her lips.

"Aren't you going to eat, _Dùil_?" Eidheann whispered in her ear.

"I'm not very hungry."

"Well you should eat something, dear, otherwise it won't just me me asking the question. _Òran_'s been keeping an eye on you since you got here, and you're starting to worry _Ath-sgal_ too."

Minerva held in a sigh of frustration, then stood from the table and glanced briefly at Galatea. "Pardon me, but I think it's best if I head back."

She didn't hear Helena excuse herself as she closed the door behind her and left for the Floo Room. She managed to hold back her emotions and steal herself once again as she walked through the halls and transported herself back to the Hospital Wing. She took several more moments to collect herself, just calming her thoughts. If she was going to be talking with her mother soon, she needed to be thinking straight. When the fireplace flashed green again and Helena stepped through, she didn't jump. Truthfully she half expected either the matron or Galatea to follow her back.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about what's bothering you?" Helena placed a hand on her shoulder.

"No, not right now."

Helena did not speak until a minute or two had passed. She inhaled deeply, squeezing her shoulder in comfort, then let it drop. "All right, I won't pressure you, Minerva, but... just know that I am _always_ here for you, just like Galatea."

Minerva bobbed her head, looking down. She fought off the feelings that she'd been suppressing for months. She hadn't been dealing with everything, merely bottling it away. By now those feelings were stacked up too high and were crushing her.

She had to fight to keep her voice from cracking. "I hate to say it, but I fear I will be exhausted by ten-thirty. Could you tell Galatea that I'll probably be asleep. We planned on talking, but-"

"I'm sure she'll understand, dear. You've been through a lot today, rest will do you some good."

Minerva nodded, grateful for the matron's gentle nature, then removed the time-turner from under her uniform. "How long will the Floo connection be safe?"

"Another half an hour or so, but before you go take this, please." Helena waved her wand, summoning a tear drop shaped vial filled with an opaque orange liquid and handed it to her. "A gulp of this potion should help with the time-turner's effects. It should be enough for a few more uses, but I have another vial incase you need it. I'm not promoting you using the device in excess while you're under this much strain, so only do this when it's absolutely necessary. I don't want you collapsing on me because you have too much responsibility. I mean it- you could be killed."

"I know." Minerva set the time-turner, then glanced back at the matron. "Thank you for everything Helena. Please, stay safe and rest."

She removed the cap and took a drink. Instantly she shivered and began to shake. She felt as if she had drunk too much butterbeer in one sitting, but at the same time her senses were clearer and sharper. Time seemed to slow down to almost a stop.

"Minerva...activate...the...device." Helena's voice was much deeper and her words seemed to lag; her lips moved so slowly. The Gryffindor glanced down and concentrated. Her fingers shook as she tried to move them and she blinked rapidly trying to clear her head.

Magic washed over her and when she opened her eyes she was still in the Head Matron's office, but no one was with her. The intense effect of the potion had worn off and she wasn't dizzy any more. She glanced at the clock and did the maths in her head. She had five minutes to contact her brother and prepare what she was going to say to her family at the Manor.

* * *

><p><strong>Happy St. Patricks day everyone! Hope you enjoyed!<br>~LinK**


	44. Paradoxical Twists

**I'll be by your side, wherever you fall**

**In the dead of night, whenever you call**

**Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you**

~By Your Side, Tenth Avenue North

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><p><strong>AN: **Just a quick shout out to my Betas who continue to tirelessly devote their free time into this. Now what was it you all wanted to see so badly from last chapter? Isobel and Minerva arguing? Be careful for what you wish for...

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><p><strong>Chapter 36 - Paradoxical Twists<strong>

**November 20th, 1942 (continued):**

_**Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.**_

Minerva held the Floo powder in her hand, listening to the tick of the clock as she waited to contact her family. She had just finished talking to her brother, and despite his reluctance to see their mother again, she managed to persuade him to join her. She specifically wanted to have a few moments alone to chat with Isobel, so she had waited to contact her brother even though she would have liked to give him more time to see Papa and Cayden. It was a selfish decision, but she reasoned that he wouldn't want to hear the argument that was about to unfold.

_**Tick. Tick. Tick.**_

The fire flashed green, indicating the Floo was open for travel and Minerva immediately threw the powder into the fireplace, calling out her location and waiting until she could see her mother's face in the flames.

"Minerva? What are you doing?" Isobel asked.

"I only have a half hour, but I want to see you."

"Is Malcom with you?"

"No, but he's coming."

Isobel nodded. "I'll go get your father and Cayden then."

"Please, wait, I want to talk with _you._"

Isobel blinked, keeping her face blank. "No, you don't."

She disappeared, leaving before her daughter could reply, but Minerva refused to let her leave without answers first. In a flash, she transported through and grabbed her mother's hand.

"Why did you kill Tradisi?" Instantly her mother froze and Minerva swore she feel the tension rolling off her in waves, but she refused to let this opportunity slip. "Why didn't you kill her all those years before, or send her to Azkaban?"

Isobel snapped, her hand jerked as she whirled around in a powerful motion. "I would _never_ have sent her to Azkaban!"

"She deserved to be locked up after what she did!"

"Never say that. _Never!_ " her mother seethed. She looked frightening, especially when Minerva noticed her eyes; they were cold, untouched by the obvious emotions Isobel was feeling, and something about it seemed almost unhuman.

"My màthair wasn't a particularly good witch, but she didn't deserve _that _fate!"

"She killed your father, didn't she?" Minerva watched Isobel recoil, her arms wrapped around her stomach and her anger rapidly dissolved. "Didn't she kill him in an effort to make you miscarry and prevent me from ever being born?"

"How..." Isobel swallowed hard. She looked in pain, her body seemed to struggle as she tried to cope with reliving the memory. "Galatea must have told you."

"Why does it matter how I know? What matters is that I know and I need an answer!"

"Did_ she_ tell you, though?"

Minerva ignored her question, firing another back, "Just how many times did Tradisi-" Isobel flinched again, "-try to kill me?"

Her mother stood still, keeping her hazel eyes transfixed on the Gryffindor until she seemed to come to a decision and stepped away, walking towards the door. "We are_ not_ talking about this."

Outraged at Isobel's continued defiance to give her answers, Minerva waved her hand, locking the door with ease. "Yes - we - _are_. I am sick and tired of being kept in the dark! That woman-"

"_Seanmhair. _She is your seanmhair, not _'Tradisi'_ and not just a _'woman'_."

The Gryffindor's fingers twitched as the urge to hex her mother surged through her and she struggled to control her voice in the wake of her absolute fury. "How can you say that? _How?_ After everything she's done? How can you still want to call her family?"

A flash of green from the fireplace alerted them to Malcom's impending arrival and while both witches immediately masked their emotions, Minerva knew the tension in the room would be enough for Malcom to know of what transpired before he interrupted.

Isobel greeted him with a nod, just barely lifting the corners of her mouth. "Malcom, go to your father, he's in the living room with your brother. Your sister and I are just having a chat and she'll join you soon."

Minerva felt Malcom's unease as his eyes flicked towards her. She poured assurance through their connection and nodded her head.

_I'll be all right._

He narrowed his eyes as he glanced back as their mother.

_Just be careful, Min._

Malcom left then them, and Minerva slowly closed off their connection as she held her mother's stare. She felt her anger surface once more as her mother's comments rolled around her head. "How can you possibly have any sentimentality for that witch after she _murdered_ your father and tried to have me killed at least three times?"

"Honestly, Minerva, at least be factual when arguing! You cannot possibly know of more than two." Yet again, Isobel dodged the question all the while staring at her with those hauntingly emotionless eyes, but this time, Minerva didn't care.

"Are you so sure of that? She tried to have me killed before I was born, she was the one responsible for my overload, and she had _you _agree to kill me at Christmas!"

"Y-You heard... _me_." Isobel subtly shook her head. "I suspected that you heard Matháir, but not _me_. I felt you back away... you should have been out of earshot before I spoke, but you heard _me_. " Hazel eyes blinked, brows rising in realisation. "_That_ was why you ran. _That_ is why you've been so mistrustful of me all these years!"

"How was I supposed to feel? You _agreed!_" Minerva fought to keep herself from shaking. "I was _twelve_, and not once did you try to make your words seem false! You could have told me what happened, told me that you were _never_ going to kill me, that you had killed _her!_ You could have at least acted like you cared, instead of-" her voice cracked and she stopped, breathing hard as her eyes bore into her mother's, pouring all of her hurt and longing into her expression.

"I didn't tell you because I wanted to spare you the burden of knowing that your mother is a murderer." Isobel let her statement linger in their air for a moment before continuing. "Are you happier now that we both understand our mistakes that night? Minerva, if you had just listened to me and gone to your father in the library as I'd asked, we wouldn't be in the position that we are in!"

"Would we, though? Would you be that loving mother I wanted all those years ago? Would you still push me away, as you've done with Galatea, Helena, and everyone else that you've ever known? Would you still be just as heartless?"

"_Heartless_?" Isobel echoed, looking quite bemused. There was a lull for a moment as Minerva pondered what what had been said, until her mother suddenly spoke again. "It no longer matters what might, or might not have happened if you had obeyed me for once. In this life, there is no going back."

"Because you refuse to, or because you can't?" Minerva spat, and waited for an answer, but when Isobel didn't respond, she finally decided to stop dodging around her main question. "Màthair, do you have a mental disorder?"

Isobel closed her eyes and a smirked curved her lips before she laughed in such a way that made her daughter shiver. "Oh the things that you don't know, my dear..."

The Gryffindor stared at her, fighting hard to keep herself from trembling in front of her mother. Her hand was near her wand. She suddenly didn't feel _safe._

"You'd understand if you knew, you'd understand everything." As Isobel's words left her lips, she suddenly seemed completely opposite to what she had been only a moment ago. There was a soft expression on her face, almost sad.

"Then _why_ don't you tell me?"

That brief moment of humanity vanished as her mother replied in a deadly serious tone, "I seek to keep it hidden for as long as I can. I would not waste your time trying to discover it, Minerva. The only way you will ever find out is if I am dead. There are only two people alive that know of my secret, and both have made an unbreakable vow to never speak of it again- and before you ask, no, Professor Merrythought is _not _one of them."

"Why do you keep her in the dark? Didn't she mean something to you once?"

"Oh yes, she did, very much in fact, but that was until I found out that being with her," Isobel's hand brushed against her cheek, "complicated things on such a scale that you cannot imagine, and now that she's influencing you, it's making things worse."

Minerva knocked the hand away with disgust and took a step back. "Liar."

"Am I? You know _nothing_ of the situation, nor does she-"

"Then we will fight it, but I am not going to abandon her like you did!"

"So you don't deny it," her mother's voice suddenly becoming dreadfully cold, "you _are_ letting her influence you?"

"I'd rather be influenced by Galatea, than _you_, Màthair."

"Minerva, you don't know what you're doing!"

"I know _exactly_ what I'm doing! I'm mending the wound that _you_ left on the poor woman's heart!"

"She still doesn't know what's good for her..." Isobel's voice softened as she looked away. "Go, be with your father and brother for a while. They've missed you."

_Clearly a lot more than you have,_ Minerva thought as she pushed past her mother and towards the door, startled to a halt when Isobel gripped her wrist, pulling her close.

"One last thing before you go; your quarrel about why Merrythought refuses to tell you anything is with _her_, not me. She was never forced into her vow, she made it willingly, and not just once, but twice! She made one against me, just like she made one against you. So don't think you're safe with her."

"Galatea seems to think the opposite, and Helena even more so."

"Just as they should," Isobel stated with an eerie calmness, then let go of her daughter's wrist.

Minerva stared at her mother for several seconds, astounded at just how much hypocrisy their heated conversation had, before opening the door and walking away without a backward glance. The mere act of leaving her mother's presence was uplifting, but it didn't compare to seeing her father standing in the doorway to the living room with a warm smile. She sighed as she felt his arms around her, releasing all the tension in her body.

"It's good to see you again."

"You too, Papa."

"Malcom told me that you and your mother were arguing," he stated after a few heartbeats of comforting silence. "Are you all right?"

"I will be," she murmured against his green tartan sweater, feeling his embrace tighten once more as he kissed her temple. "I don't have very long, twenty minutes or so."

"I know, Malcom told me, but I'm glad you came, Minnie. I've missed you so much."

The guilt of not returning for Christmas this year washed over her. It wasn't fair that her father didn't get to see her during the precious little time that was given to them.

"I'm so sorry, Papa. Please understand that I really did want to come for Christmas, but-"

"You don't have to say another word, darling," her father's voice overrode hers and he cupped her cheek gently. "As much as I wish that you could, I understand why you don't want to this time."

Minerva's brows furrowed as she pulled back a little to look up at him. "You do?"

He nodded. "I'm sure there are other reasons, but believe me, you're not the first McGonagall who didn't want to return to their parents over the holiday." Robert winked at her, but then his momentary amusement vanished. "Also, with how your mother has been lately, I cannot find it within me to ask you to stay anyhow. All I will ask is that you do what makes you feel safe and happy. That's all I've ever wanted for you."

Robert hugged her tighter and she responded equally with relief crashing over her. "You know a lot of what's going on, don't you, Papa?"

She followed her father into the living room as he sighed. "I sometimes wish I didn't, but put that out of your mind now. Cayden's dying to see you."

The moment they came into view of the two McGonagall brothers on the couch, Cayden's face lit up.

"Minvey!" Cayden roared with glee as he vaulted off the settee and rushed to her with opened arms. He crashed into her with such force that she stumbled back a step as she enveloped the boy. "You took forever to get here!"

Minerva laughed, kissing his forehead. His head was only a few inches under her chin now. _Was he always this tall?_

"It's good to see you too, Cayd. You've grown a few inches since I last saw you."

"I'll catch up to you and Malcom soon!" her little brother beamed. "Just you wait! A few more years and I'll be taller than you!"

"Doubtful," Malcom added with a smirk, and Cayden rolled his eyes.

"I will, won't I Minvey!"

"Of course you will, little brother," she eyed his exposed sides for split second and before he could notice, took advantage and tickled him, "only after you learn to evade me first!"

Cayden squirmed as he fell, bursting into peals of laughter while desperately trying to knock her hands away and get her back. She could have kept him at bay if she really tried, but after a bit of struggle and in a moment of childish glee -decided to let him win. They fell on the floor, laughing until their sides hurt and she surrendered to him.

"All right! All right, you little monkey, you win!"

The little boy cheered, his face beaming with triumph. In the back of her mind, though, Minerva couldn't help but wonder how long that smile would stay so blissfully innocent.

* * *

><p>After the whispers had died down about why Minerva had gone to meet with Professor Dumbledore, everything seemed to return to normal. Rolanda knew she should be keeping an eye on Pomona, who still seemed quite depressed, but she couldn't stop keeping her gaze on Poppy. Something was different about the her tonight. She couldn't seem to stop smiling. After today's events, it seemed a little out of place, but there it was; soft, making the corners of her mouth twitch as she sat quietly. Poppy also kept flashing glances at Mikail, followed by a light blush dancing across her cheeks, which was all the more puzzling. Unless Rolanda was reading the signs wrong, she was quite certain that dear Poppy was infatuated with Mikail Lutrov.<p>

It didn't make sense. Poppy had seemingly _loathed _the wizard since he'd arrived at Hogwarts, but there she was, blushing, smiling and in a world of her own. A part of her wondered if Mikail had enchanted her, except there wasn't any sign of deception. Poppy seemed be her normal, happy self. She should have been happy for her sister, and Rolanda was a little ashamed that she was so suspicious about her sister's happiness, it was just unfortunate that these tense times called for it.

She waited until they had finished dinner before acting. They walked quietly back to Gryffindor Tower, passing by the Transfiguration Courtyard, where Rolanda hooked her arm through Poppy's and pulled her outside.

"You know, I think I saw some roses over there. Will you help me pick a few for Xavier please?"

"What? Rola, you don't send roses- what would he do with them anyway? You should just keep sending him photographs and little trinkets."

"Oh hush, will you? I need to talk with you before you make a fool of yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"Surely you don't think it isn't obvious to _me_, Poppy? I was infatuated with Xavier long before you ever realised, and Augusta danced around with Kevin for a year until they finally started dating. I know what I'm seeing."

Poppy crossed her arms, glaring a little as she eyed Rolanda coldly. "And what exactly is that?"

"You've been in a daze since you came back from the Hospital Wing. You've held that smile on your face tonight longer than you've kept one over the last few months, and not to mention you blush every time you sneak a peek at Mikail. I'm pleased that you're happy, don't get me wrong, but it's clear that something happened that you're not telling me, so spit it out."

"I... um..." Poppy looked down and began to fidget with her hands.

"You know can tell me."

"I know I can, but... I'm just not sure that you'd understand."

"Is it because you're infatuated with Mikail?"

When Poppy didn't answer she knew she'd hit the nail on the head, but she began to worry when she Poppy suddenly seemed fearful. "He didn't force you into this with a spell or something, did he?"

Poppy shook her head. Rolanda waited, staring at her sister as she replayed all the events previously between the two of them. Anxiety ran through her mind and maybe she was just being paranoid after Riddle assaulted Minerva, but she couldn't help the fear that Mikail was manipulating her sister into acting this way.

"What has he done?"

"Nothing!" Poppy snapped. "He hasn't done anything, not like you think. Rola..." her features softened, "Mikail's not out to kill Minerva, he's out to protect her. You were right, he's not part of the Untergang, not technically anyway."

Rolanda studied her best friend, trying to find some sign that her sister was lying or under a spell, but she couldn't find one. "Pray, tell how he's convinced you of that."

"I can't say much, I don't want to jeopardize his cover, but he's on our side. The night after Helena's attack, I caught him using the Floo to contact his superiors and I confronted him. He told me that the Untergang is using him, and this whole this is a ploy to escape them. They killed his mother and blackmailed his father all in an effort to making him an Untergang member, and ever since then he's been doing everything he can to get away from them. He had to pretended to be on their side so he could come here and escape them, now he's slowly severing ties."

"I don't believe that."

"I didn't either at the time, so I kept it quiet. I didn't want to say anything because if it _was_ true and I told Merrythought the opposite." She shook her head. "He also kissed me, which didn't help at all." Her eyes sparkled and a soft smile appeared on her lips. "That's why I couldn't bring myself to have our connection open. I couldn't control my thoughts and I didn't want either of you to accuse him of being the enemy, when he's not."

"Okay, that covers how you know his story, but not why you're so certain. I do hope you haven't just taken his word for it."

"I haven't. You're right, I lied. I didn't go to see Helena, and Mikail didn't need to go to the Hospital. He needed to speak with his _'master'_ to find out who hurt Toby, and I convinced him to let me listen in."

"And what did you discover?"

"The main sect of the Untergang sent warnings to the Vance and Bones families, only. They weren't after the McGonagall's at all, so it was either the rogue sect that's after Min, or something, someone, else. His mentor, Karkaroff, also confirmed the key points of Mikail's story- oh and you were right, Mikail has known who Minerva is for quite some time now, it wouldn't have mattered what we did to try and hide it."

Rolanda began to pace, trying to absorb the situation. "So, what do we do now?"

"Nothing."

"We can't just do nothing, Poppy! Professor Merrythought should know Mikail's not _really_ with the Untergang, but does know about Min."

"No she doesn't, no one else needs to know except you, me and maybe Min, but no one else, please Rolanda, I don't want to be the reason he gets killed because of a misunderstanding," she begged softly. "It would look terrible right now if Merrythought found out. I have no doubt that she wouldn't be satisfied with what I know; in fact, she'd probably think I'm letting my infatuation affect my judgement, but that's not true! I _know _what I heard."

Rolanda just stared at Poppy, torn between her want to keep Minerva safe, but also keep Poppy happy. "All right, but if he makes one wrong move, he'll have more than Merrythought to worry about."

Poppy chuckled. "I told him the same thing."

"Fine, just be careful, okay? One sister's enough to worry about. I've got Pomona to watch over along with you and Mikail, so don't expect me to be happy about it."

"I understand." Poppy began to turn, when Rolanda pulled her closer and hugged her.

"I am very happy to hear of your kiss, however! Was that the only time?"

Poppy blushed, looking positively giddy as she shook her head. "Our second time was in the Room of Requirement today, I finally kissed him back this time."

"Alone in a secluded, mysterious room? Sounds dangerous, Poppy, that's not like you! Is your inner Gryffindor shining again?"

"Oh hush you," Poppy's blush returned. "I did enjoy every minute of it, though. It was thrilling and very lovely."

Rolanda chuckled, remembering her own experiences with Xavier as they continued their journey to the Tower. She honestly couldn't wait for him to get back and snog him until they were breathless.

Once they reached their destination, it wasn't difficult to find Mikail. Despite her reluctance, she let Poppy talk with him alone as she went to their dormitory to see if Minerva might have made it back yet. Their connection was still closed, which was a little worrying, but she simply assumed that Minerva had a good reason for it.

At first glance when she opened the door she thought the room was empty, but then her eyes caught something different on Minerva's bed. Moving closer, Rolanda noticed a grey tabby sleeping with her head tucked into Mico's chest. Clearly something had happened after Minerva left with Professor Dumbledore, or else she wouldn't feel the need to hide behind her Animagus form. She decided to let them sleep undisturbed, and closed the door behind her as she left the room. Minerva could tell them tomorrow.

As she left the dorm and walked down the stairs to the common room, Rolanda bumped into Michael Thomas nearly tipping them both down the stairs.

"Sorry, Rolanda, I didn't see you there," Michael muttered quickly.

"No harm, no foul," she smiled, trying to assure him that she really wasn't angry.

"Do you happen to know where Minerva is? I can't seem to find her."

"She's asleep in our dorm. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, well, I was just wondering if she was okay. I'll try and catch her after the game."

Rolanda did her best to hide her smirk. She knew that look he had on his face. He was clearly nervous, but ready to take a chance. The hawk-eyed witch chuckled to herself as she sat on the sofa, flipping through her Quidditch plans.

_Well what do you know, someone's finally taking an interest in Min._

**November 21st, 1942:**

When morning came, it was all too soon for Minerva. She may have taken a nap yesterday afternoon thanks to Mico's help, but unfortunately sleep hadn't been kind to her. Her dreams had shifted between her fears of the Untergang, Helena and Galatea's attacks, and her encounter with Fang, all the while her mother's words from their past conversations had echoed hauntingly throughout. When the sun came up, she did not see it as a welcoming sign of a new day, but rather another day that she knew so little of her mother's game, where the monster was still loose, and the war was still raging on.

Still, she had enough to keep her mind occupied today now that the highly anticipated match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff was finally here. The tension was palpable from all four houses. Most of the Gryffindors were cheering for Hufflepuff, while the Slytherins predictably rooted for Ravenclaw. Due to her friendly loyalties, Minerva was sticking to the Badgers, although she could quite confidently say that both teams were evenly matched. As per usual for every game that the Gryffindor team was not involved in, the players stuck together and were joined by their friends in the stands. It surprised Minerva that Michael Thomas snatched the seat near her, and that Poppy and Mikail entered the stadium together, but she was more alarmed to see Pomona on the brink of tears as she wandered around, searching for them.

"Pomona!" Minerva and Rolanda shouted in unison and waved for her attention. The pudgy Hufflepuff blinked several times, then managed a weak smile as she wiped the tears from her face and joined them. She sat in between Rolanda and Minerva, clearly trying to keep her breathing even.

"What's wrong?" the green-eyed witch whispered, wrapping her into a hug as the crowd began to get excited.

Pomona shook her head and mumbled, "Could we talk later, after the game?"

"Of course." Minerva gripped her, giving her a side hug.

_She's getting worse, isn't she?_ Rolanda's voice echoed in her mind.

_Hopefully it will all work out- I just have to make sure she's there._

_Is that what you and Hestia were talking about earlier?_

"GOOD AFTERNOON, EVERYONE!" The announcer cut off Minerva's thoughts and directed everyone's attention to the game.

When the players came out on the field they were met by a great roar from the stands, and even Pomona managed to cheer on her team. As the game progressed, so did the amusing banter between Minerva and Michael as he'd say what he thought would happen next, while Minerva would offer her own opinion, and she was usually right. The game was tied until the end when it boiled down to the Seeker chase, but eventually it was the Hufflepuff player who caught the snitch. It was a victory much needed, but unfortunately, even that didn't seem to phase Pomona any more.

Minerva frowned, it wasn't like the Hufflepuff to let anything get between her and Quidditch. She had hoped that the game would cheer her up, but it seemed like not even that could help.

_Something else must have happened..._

"Let's get off the stands, then we'll talk," Minerva whispered to her friend as they stood up. Pomona bobbed her head and they left with the crowd. Just as they began to wander away from their peers, Minerva felt a tap on her shoulder and turned back.

"Hey, are you coming to the celebration, or sticking your head in a book all night?" Michael Thomas winked.

Minerva feigned a smile to try and get him to leave. "I'll be there later."

"Great! I'll see you then." The wizard grinned, then made his way out. The witch rubbed her temples, she didn't have time, nor the patience, to deal with Michael today.

"What was that about?" Pomona queried softly, keeping her eyes on her feet.

"I'll find out when I get back to the Tower, I guess."

Keeping her arm around Pomona, Minerva waited for her friend to speak as she used her awareness to try and find Hestia. She was only mildly surprised when she caught Hestia's presence just above them, and she just hoped that the witch would be listening in.

Hearing Pomona's sniffles and seeing her tears return, they sat on the floor, leaning back against a post.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it."

"You don't have to be sorry," Minerva assured, rubbing comforting circles on her back. "Did something happen before the match?"

Several more tears rolled down the Hufflepuff's cheeks.

"I was trying to find Hestia, to apologize for whatever I did, and maybe appeal to her again." Pomona's shook her head solemnly. "I found out that she's courting Alfred Petalson."

Green eyes widened. She took another moment to configure a response that didn't reveal what she already knew. "How do you know?"

"I found them," her voice cracked, "under the stands. They were very close. He, he gave her a red rose, red is for romance."

"Did you hear anything they said?"

"No, but I did interrupt them. I tried asking Hestia if we could be friends again, asked if she and Petalson would like to join me to watch the game, but-"

"She declined?"

Pomona nodded. "It doesn't matter, though. It all makes sense, now."

Minerva raised a brow. "I'm afraid that it doesn't quite make sense to me. Why would Hestia ignore you if she is dating Petalson?"

"I think she may have realised it before I did," Pomona exhaled shakily and wiped away her tears. "It's been on my mind a lot lately, but the more time we spend apart, the more I've come to realise that I think I've fallen in love with her. I know she's my friend, but I keep looking back and noticing the signs of attraction." She groaned softly and hugged her middle. "Not to mention what a distraction those bloody flowers caused! I was so focused on finding out who was sending them."

Minerva was rather pleased that Pomona currently couldn't see her face. Maybe it was the irony of the situation, or maybe it was because she knew Hestia's affection was requited, but she couldn't prevent herself from smiling.

"So you think Hestia is avoiding you because you're in love with her, and she's courting Petalson?"

"It's the only explanation I can think of." The sadness in Pomona's voice erased Minerva's smile. "It hurts so much, Min, every time I see her. I miss seeing her smile, miss talking with her, just being her friend. Never mind what I feel about her, I just want our friendship back, but at this point not even that seems plausible."

The Gryffindor looked up to where she sensed Hestia, silently wishing that that the witch would come down and tell Pomona the truth, but Hestia wasn't moving. With a sigh, she realised that this was definitely not the right moment to tell Pomona to meet 'her admirer'- for both her sake and Hestia's.

"Do you want me to talk with Hestia, see what I can do?"

The Hufflepuff sighed as they both stood. "Normally I would say no, it doesn't make sense to get someone else caught in the middle, but if you think you can help, I'd be tremendously grateful."

"I'll do what I can."

"Pomona?" Dugald McPhail's voice echoed from outside. "Pomona, are you still out here?"

Pomona's brown eyes glanced at Minerva, who then smiled softly, thanking the Gods for providing a window of opportunity for her to talk with Hestia.

"Go on, I need to sharpen my claws anyway. Try to have fun, all right, just forget about it for a while?"

"I'll try. Thank you, Min, you are such a good friend." The Hufflepuff gave her one last hug and went to find her fellow housemate. Minerva's smile disappeared at the moment Pomona left. Despite the situation, she was secretly glad to be able to focus on something other than her own troubled personal life. As she made her way up the pitch once again, she rubbed her tired eyes, silently thankful for the glamour charm hiding the dark circles under her eyes.

Hestia still hadn't moved from her spot above the stairs, her hands and wavy black hair covered her face. "Go on, say it," she whispered, "I'm a fool."

"I wasn't going to say that." Minerva sat down beside the witch.

"I feel terrible." Hestia removed her hands and rested them in her lap. "I should have just told her what was going on instead of staying silent like a daft idiot. I couldn't speak when she caught us, I knew exactly what it must have looked like when I leaned in to kiss Arnold's cheek, under the stands and with a rose in my hand," she shook her head. "Those flowers made everything so much worse."

"They've made the situation difficult I grant you, however, they've also done some good. You know that she's fallen for you."

"Yes, but I've been broken her heart, and mine in the process."

Minerva covered Hestia's hands. "You can still heal the rift between you two, though. You have to be honest with her; about the flowers, Petalson, and your feelings."

"Do you think she'll forgive me?"

"You know Pomona is one of the kindest people in the Wizarding world, and despite how much you've ignored her the past few weeks, she still hasn't given up on wanting to rekindle your friendship; of course she'll forgive you."

A flicker of hope flashed across Hestia's face. "I'll tell her tonight then."

"Good luck."

As they stood to leave, Minerva's awareness caught something briefly flicker about twenty feet away to her left on the stands. Her eyes narrowed as she scoured every inch for signs of life, but she found nothing. She waited for a moment, hoping to hear a safe-word, but she was met with silence. A tendril of fear curled in her stomach at the idea of facing an enemy that she couldn't see or feel.

"Minerva? What is it?"

"Nothing, let's just head back?"

Hestia frowned, clearly not convinced. "Are you sure?"

"No, but I think we need to leave."

Hestia thankfully didn't argue and they both made their way back to their respective houses. Minerva though wasn't in a hurry to enter the tower and join the party. Despite how much she wanted to turn back time and slip into her dormitory before her fellow housemates returned from the game, she couldn't make herself break her promise to Galatea. Hearing her housemates laughing while they danced to the rousing music echoing through the corridors, she became increasingly agitated and paused to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. Celebrating was something she definitely did not feel like doing today.

The moment Minerva entered the common room, Rolanda grabbed her arm, pulling her to her side and surprising her.

"About time you got back! How did it go?"

"Not exactly as planned."

The hawk-eyed witch chuckled. "When do plans that involve you ever go smoothly? Now tell me, is it Hestia that's been sending the flowers? "

Minerva welcomed Rolanda's enthusiasm, happy to see that she wasn't struggling with Xavier's absence and grateful for another excuse to keep herself from dancing a little while longer. "When did you solve the mystery?"

"Oh, I've had my suspicions for a while."

"And you haven't said anything?"

Rolanda shrugged, her golden eyes glinting with amusement. "I wanted to see how it would play out."

"You're horrible, and to make up for it, you're telling me how you pieced it together."

"Oh but keeping that secret is half the fun!" Rolanda held her glare for a few seconds before caving. "All right, all right! Honestly, I think you'd have picked it up if you weren't so busy, it's quite simple. I've seen Hestia's eyes wandering when Pomona isn't looking and how she sometimes loses her train of thought when watching Pomona in Herbology. Then there's the amount of time she's been spending with Alfred Petalson, and judging by the way he flirts with Jake Donnelly, I know it's not because he's attracted to Hestia. Besides that, everyone knows that Alfred keeps a copy of Meanings of Flowers: Petal by Petal with him."

Rolanda took a drink with a very smug expression on her face as she then glanced across the room. Minerva followed her gaze, finding Poppy sitting on the window seat with Mikail across from her.

"Anyway," Rolanda cleared her throat. "You said that the meeting didn't go well?"

Tearing her curious eyes from Poppy, Minerva explained what occurred after the game, but just before she got to the end, Arthur Cormac politely interrupted to ask Rolanda to dance. Minerva watched as the Quidditch Captain had to practically lead her partner around, before she went to the punchbowl. She began thinking of how to escape upstairs to relax when Michael Thomas appeared at her elbow.

"There you are, I was worried you wouldn't come."

"Really?" she asked, doing her best to keep her irritation from slipping into her voice.

"Yeah, I've been waiting for you."

Minerva pursed her lips and she filling her cup with punch while taking note of how Michael moved closer and glanced up to meet his gaze. She held it for a second, before looking away. "What for?"

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday, I shouldn't have grabbed you."

"No, you shouldn't have," she took a drink, "however, I accept your apology. Thank you."

"So, how is your family?"

"They're safe for now."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Silence came between them for a moment as they stood there, watching the others dancing and laughing. She knew what was happening, she could smell the hormones his body was producing, and was quite sure that her own was doing the same, but she kept repeating to herself that there was far too much occurring in her life to indulge in a dalliance that she didn't have time for such a thing when there was a monster on the loose, the Untergang out to kill her, and a war going on.

"Would you like to dance?" Michael asked suddenly.

Yet, even though Minerva knew she shouldn't say yes, she was tired of being Minerva McGonagall today. She wanted something trivial to focus on, something other than the heavy weight of her responsibilities and the ache in her heart that her mother was causing.

"That would be lovely," the witch replied, setting her glass on the table.

She took Michael's outstretched hand as they took their place, ignoring the astounded glances and whispers from the other Gryffindors. They clearly thought she would be buried in her books, rather than dancing- and with the class jokester no less. Minerva felt Michael's hand rest on her waist as she her placed her hand on his chest when the music started, and they took off.

_One, two, three; one, two, three._

He twirled her around on cue, catching her hand as she smoothly came back to face him. His arm snuck to her waist again, curving around a little tighter and a little lower than before, stoking a dark, intense set of feelings that were slowly beginning to rise.

_One, two, three; one, two, three._

His confidence increased as they took turn after turn, their gazes always returning to each other's, their hands clasped tightly together, as he boldly drew their bodies closer.

"You surprise me, Minerva," Michael confessed softly, his lips near her ear as they swayed, "I didn't know you were such a good dancer."

"You're too kind, though I must be honest, you surprise me as well."

"I've surprised the great Minerva McGonagall?"

She abstained from showing her irrigation by ignoring the comment as they navigated a slightly more difficult step.

_One, two, three; one, two, three._

"Yes, you lead very-" she paused as he spun her around in time with everyone else in the room, but as the music slowed, he changed their position. Instead of guiding her through a full turn, he caught her halfway, pulling her back until she pressed against his chest and her arms criss-crossed with his over her front. Feeling the tickling sensation of his hot breath on her neck, her pulse raced, and she struggled to finish their conversation, "very well."

_One, two, three; one, two, three._

Whether the touch was intentional or not, Minerva felt his fingers brush against her stomach as he unravelled her, causing her mind to forget everyone in the room but him. A near miss with the couple beside them returned her focus and she glanced up at Michael, saw his dilated eyes and noted how _very_ close they were. She recognised her body's reactions warring against her mind and struggled to retain her composure.

_One, two, three; stop._

The music ended, and Minerva promptly let go, taking a moment to join the clapping.

"Thank you," she murmured, deliberately avoiding his gaze before she excused herself, fleeing to her dormitory as as quickly as possible without being noticed. She closed the door behind her and tried to calm her breathing as memories of what Riddle had done to her in the library came flooding back.

_What was I thinking? I'm not ready for that type of encounter again, not ready to engage in that sort of frivolity._

Her hands trembled as she covered her face. She felt her legs give way and she slid down the wall as she struggled to keep herself from breaking apart. It wasn't just Riddle that brought her down; the weasel was only part of the weight bearing down on her shoulders. It was her mother's haunting voice echoing words from their exchange yesterday as images of the Daily Prophet's headlines of the war flashed through her head with her vivid memories of being at Galatea's side after her attack and watching Helena nearly bleed to death that caused her emotions to unravel.

Minerva felt so very overwhelmed, as if the world was crashing down upon her and so terribly alone as well. No matter how much she tried, they could never truly understand the pressure she felt, whether they were connected or not. It wasn't often that she wished to be someone different, but tonight she wished that someone else would just take the burden away from her.

A soft pressure on her thigh alerted her to the stubbed-tail tabby that had come to comfort her, just as he had done last night. She lifted her arm and let Mico into her lap. He leaned against her chest, allowing her to rest her head against his, and purred, pouring comfort into her heart. After a few minutes, Minerva managed to pull herself together and bury her feelings back where they should have remained. Remembering that her Transfiguration essay was due next week she decided that it would be best to revise her thirteen foot long response. When she sat down at her desk, she let Mico settle on her lap and began to work. Hardly five minutes had passed when the door opened, revealing Augusta, who stood frowning at her.

"What are you doing up here? You should be downstairs, having fun, letting your hair down, not doing homework for Merlin's sake!"

"I did," the dark haired witch replied tersely.

"For three minutes. Come on, Minnie-Kitty, you danced so wonderfully!"

It might have been the nickname that made her snap, or the combination of everything, but Minerva lost all her sense of restraint.

"What good will it do? No matter how much you want to, you cannot dance away the war; the monster; the Untergang, nor the fact that Oscar and several other cats are missing!" She heard her quill crack, but paid no attention. "Dancing is an illusion, a way to pretend that all is well, that everything will be happy again. Dancing is for the fools who refuse to accept a reality which we should be paying attention, and practising vigilance! I let my hair down for three minutes of ignorant bliss, and that is all that I can afford in times such as these. Now leave me be."

With a wave of her hand, Minerva banished her broken quill into the trash and summoned a new one as she turned her back to Augusta once more.

"Whether dancing is used as a disguise or not, does it matter? Isn't a moment of happiness better than letting yourself be engulfed in the despair that's all around us?" the blonde witch asked quietly. "Don't you ever just want to be happy?"

Several heartbeats passed as Minerva struggled internally to voice her reply.

"I don't have that luxury, Gusta," she muttered, dipping her quill and blotting it absently. "You do, though. You don't have any expectations, nor the whole weight of having to think about the future of whole Wizarding World on your shoulders. So go and enjoy yourself with Kevin."

It wasn't until she had written several lines that she heard Augusta leave. Mico promptly jumped off her lap and promptly refused to leave Augusta's bed for the rest of the night. Clearly he wasn't happy with what she'd said to Augusta and Minerva couldn't bring herself to disagree with him.

* * *

><p>Hestia paused outside her dormitory door for several minutes, listening to the sounds of celebrations in the common room. She'd been playing different scenarios in her mind all the way from the pitch, except now that she was out of time, she was having troubling finding the courage to do it. She could just act like nothing had happened, that she hadn't heard a word, and perhaps send Pomona a letter in the morning. It would be easier, however, she knew she'd hurt Pomona too much, and as a friend, she deserved to be told the truth in person, regardless of how hard it would be for her.<p>

_I did this. I have to fix it._

Taking a deep breath, Hestia opened the door. She found Pomona at the window, looking up at the stars. The bright moon light of the full moon cast a soft glow on her skin and made her damp cheeks shimmer. Hestia wasn't sure if her friend just hadn't noticed her coming through, or whether she simply didn't see the point in greeting her.

"Pomona, can we talk?"

The plump witch sighed, but didn't remove her gaze from the stars. "You don't have to say anything, Hestia, I think I finally understand what's been going on. I'll leave you alone and request to move dormitories next year."

"Please don't." Hestia quickly moved to the window seat and sat across from her friend. "I don't want you leave, Pomona, I-"

"You don't want me to leave, but you've been ignoring me for the past month?" she huffed, betraying the anguish inside her. "Who are you trying to fool? Hestia, will you please just honour the friendship we once had and for once be honest with me? Just tell me that you're dating Petalson and that you don't want to be around me because-"

"Pomona, Alfred Petalson is gay. He doesn't find me attractive and we are most certainly not dating, but the most important thing you need to know is that _I_ am gay as well." Hestia paused, watching as her words sank into Pomona's heart, how the anguish in her eyes and face dissolved almost completely, then reached across slowly and clasped her hands. "I'm so sorry for causing you to suffer, Pomona, more sorry than I could ever express in words alone. I have a lot to tell you, but if you let me, I'd like to start from the beginning, with the main reason all this started. When I'm done, if you still want to leave and never be friends with me again, I won't stop you."

Pomona smiled weakly. "Hestia, I don't think that could ever happen."

Hestia blinked, finding she couldn't hold her friend's gaze after all she had done. She swallowed, allowing her memories to fill her thoughts and somehow churn them into words. It took another minute before she could finally open her mouth and explain, but Pomona was patient as ever.

Hestia told her friend what she'd kept hidden from everyone except Alfred. She talked about how her parents disapproved of that sort of thing, that they would disown her if they caught wind of her true feelings, and the tremendous pains she went through to make sure her parents would never suspect it. She gently expressed that by the start of this year she had begun to develop a fondness for 'certain girl', and upon Pomona's hopeful query she confirmed that it was her. Hestia explained that she thought she could ignore it, but as time passed she found that was no longer possible and decided that something needed to be done.

Pomona pieced the rest together quickly, why she had decided to send flowers with Alfred Petalson's help. Hestia confessed that because Pomona had never once asked if the admirer was a woman, she had assumed that Pomona simply wasn't interested in women.

"My feelings they- Pomona, I couldn't handle being around you anymore. It hurt, almost physically, seeing you everyday and night, believing that you- oh blast it all." Fighting back tears, Hestia finally looked up, meeting her friend's gaze. "I think I love you, and believing that you didn't love me back is what drove me to avoid you. I had to try to let you go."

"But you don't want to now?"

"I _never _wanted to, ever. But I can't handle seeing you suffer like this, so I'm telling you and hoping you'll understand."

Pomona studied her for several moments, as Hestia secretly wondered if she'd confess what she told to Minerva.

"Oh what a mess we've gotten ourselves in." Pomona reached up and tentatively wiped a tear from Hestia's face. She wore a sad smile, but her eyes sparkled with happy amusement and she chuckled more when her own tears spilled down her cheeks. "It took me a while to fully realise it, and I'm still not sure how I feel towards other women, but I_ am_ attracted to you, Hestia. It's more than just fondness, I- I'm, I don't know how else to express how much I enjoy being around you, except going as far to say that 'I love you' too."

Hestia couldn't help but laugh as all the tension let go of her body and Pomona quickly followed. They laughed at the irony, at their own faults, at how ridiculous they both had been, and even more because it felt so _good_ to simply laugh together again.

"I've missed you; your smile, your laughter, the way your eyes sparkle when you're happy," Hestia rubbed her thumb against the soft skin between Pomona's index finger and thumb, "your touch, just you being you. I'm sorry Pomona."

"I know." Pomona scooted closer to Hestia and they held hands, their fingers gently tracing each other's finger for several minutes of silence as their gazes locked. "So what happens now?"

"Well that depends," Hestia murmured, leaning a little closer as she brought a hand up to brush a few curls from Pomona's face. "We could either kiss, or go join the party."

She noticed that Pomona held her breath for a moment before blushing adorably in the moonlight. "Both, but I think I'd rather the first happen right now."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Hestia smiled against Pomona's lips. "_Kiss me._"

* * *

><p><strong>And there you have it, a flare of fluffy romance amongst all this angst tension for you all ;) I hope you enjoyed!<strong>

**~LinK**


	45. Matters of Personal Concern

**Another day in this carnival of souls**

**Another night settles in as quickly as it goes**

**The memories are shadows; ink on the page**

**And I can't seem to find my way home**

~Far From Home by Five Finger Death Punch

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** A thousand apologies for not updating in over a month. Finals really hit my free time hard this semester, especially my 48 page fiction writing final.

**1stBeta [Em]:** So we would have beta-ed this a little quicker but LinK loves giving you copious amounts of writing to enjoy, so we have to try and do it quicker...but there are only so many hours in a day :P Good job we love her really...

**Author:** It's true. I kept adding on, but I am at last happy about how this chapter turned out! So a _really_ big hug goes out to my betas, they're the best :)

~Side note: My McGonagall/Hooch fic "Brooding on a Broom" was nominated for the HP Fanfic Fan Poll Awards on livejournal! Voting is open until June 30th and there are several really awesome fics nominated, so I encourage you to read some and then cast your votes :D

~Hope you enjoy this installment!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 37 - Matters of Personal Concern<strong>

**November 22nd, 1942:**

It was caving in on Minerva, making it hard to see, breathe, think. It snaked up her arms and wrapped around her shoulders.

She couldn't move.

Panic flared inside as she desperately tried to escape, but to no avail. Not even her magic could help her now. She screamed, crying out for help, begging for someone to free her as she felt herself being dragged further into the darkness- yet no one came. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

A claw-like hand traced along her jawline to her chin when her emerald eyes snapped open. She saw a mirror in front of her, and to her horror saw Tradisi's cold, dead, eyes staring at her in the reflection.

"_Look at that pretty face,"_ she hissed in Minerva's ears, making her skin crawl. _"It's such a beautiful structure; so stern, sharp, demanding. A face of power and authority."_

The woman's talons moved to her eyebrow then traced over the hairs and down to her temple with such ferocity that they cut into Minerva's skin, causing a few drops of blood to seep out. The wound stung, causing more tears to leak as she whimpered.

"_It's a pity that your eyes ruin the picture. Green symbolizes harmony, healing, safety, stability and hope. Ha! What lies!" _Tradisi spat as she raked her nails down Minerva's cheek. More tears mixed with the now free-flowing blood.

"_What harmony have you brought, hmm? What healing and safety have you brought to my family, child? And what of stability? Oh, you've destroyed that as well; if you had only listened to your màthair and left for the library when you should have, things could have been so different..."_ The woman uttered a sickening chuckle as she brought her bloodied hand down to Minerva's throat. _"What hope have you brought, Minerva, darling? What hope can you possibly bring to this war ravaged world? You're a mere girl. You haven't accomplished anything, except cause Death to greet those you love!"_

Her panic exploded as Tradisi's claw-like nails scored her throat and the darkness began to cloud her vision. All attempts to fight her off were useless; the woman had her this time, there was no escape. Yet, just as soon as she found herself unable to take another breath, the claw disappeared. She could breathe and move again. Even her vision returned, although she wished it hadn't upon seeing that her mother was now behind her.

Minerva whirled around, facing those emotionless eyes that she loathed so much, as the blood on her face ran down her neck and stained her robes.

"_You don't know what you're doing," _Isobel murmured, reaching for her daughter's face. Minerva flinched, but stopped when her mother's touch took the pain away. _"Only __**I **__know what's best for you."_

"_Càit a bheil thu, luaidh? _[Where are you, darling]?" Galatea's voice echoed around her.

Minerva turned her head, trying to find the her mentor, but Isobel preventing her from leaving by grabbing her hand. The burning sensation returned to her face and blood dripped down her face once more; the cut Tradisi gave her had returned, and it only grew deeper the more she struggled to escape her mother's grasp.

"_Let go!"_ she yelled, _"Let go, Màthair, it hurts!"_

"_It only hurts because you're going to __**her**__, dear. Stop struggling and it'll be all right!"_

"_Minerva, come to me," _Galatea appeared behind her, trying to reach out to Minerva as well. _"I am your guardian, I am supposed to protect you!"_

She pulled and tugged, fighting past the pain as she desperately tried to reach the elder witch. _"Galatea, help me!"_

"_Take my hand, leannan _[sweetheart]_!"_

Blood and tears blurred Minerva's vision as she strained to her body's limits before Isobel yanked her back and clutched both her hands.

"_Only __**I**__ know what's best for you,"_ her mother repeated, and while the pain subsided by just being near her, Minerva refused to accept her words.

"_No you don't!"_

"_**She**__ i__s making matters worse. Stop struggling and stay with __**me**__!"_

"_Luaidh_ [Darling]_, please, don't leave me," _the elder witch pleaded. _"You promised."_

"_Minerva, you don't know what you're doing!"_

Minerva's green eyes snapped open, her vision suddenly clear now. _"Yes - I - do!"_

She broke free and ran to Galatea. The first step made her body feel like it was on fire; the second like she'd been electrocuted, but neither compared to the sheer agony she felt when her fingertips brushed Galatea's outstretched hand. Minerva screamed as she fell down into a deep pit of darkness, feeling as if Death had come to collect her. She heard Galatea crying out for her, begging for her to come back, but she was too weak to answer. All she could do was watch as Galatea left, leaving her alone with her mother staring her down and whispering over and over, _"You cannot escape. Only __**I **__know what's best for you."_

"Damn it, I don't know what's wrong with her!" A familiar voice echoed in her mind. "Augusta, get Madam Nurix!"

She felt someone press a hand on her shoulder and shake her. Minerva panicked and tried to grab it in an attempted to shove the person away from her, but ten her mind registered how _hard_ and how _real_ it was. She jolted up from her bed. All at once, her mind came back to reality to see Poppy and Rolanda on opposite sides of her bed with concern lining their faces. She shivered, goosebumps covered her body along with a layer of rapidly cooling perspiration.

Barely a second passed before the vivid dream-like sequence played before her eyes. She watched as Avrenim shook Poppy awake and pointed towards herself, who was shaking violently and whimpering. Avrenim watched as Poppy tried to wake her several times before Minerva then began to thrash, tangling herself up in the sheets as she rejected her sister's efforts. Rolanda woke, then Augusta, both of them looking around wearily, until their eyes fell on Minerva and they scrambled out of bed. They tried questioning the astral, but being unable to vocalize, Avrenim shook her head in despair and simply watched her carrier suffer. The minute Poppy ordered Augusta to find the head matron, Avrenim began to fade...

"Wait, Gusta, she's waking!" Minerva heard Rolanda call as her recollection of Avrenim's experience ended.

"Relax, Min," Poppy whispered. "It was all just a horrible dream."

Minerva nodded, grimacing at the pounding headache that emerged as she took several deep breaths to calm herself. Assessing her surroundings, Minerva groaned when she realised it wasn't even dawn yet.

"You gave us quite a fright, mate," the hawk-eyed witch murmured as she perched on the edge of the bed.

"Yes, I saw. I apologize for waking you all so early."

"Don't worry about it, Minnie-Kitty." Augusta leaned against the bedpost. "Are you all right?"

If Minerva hadn't been so tired, she would have hexed the blonde witch for used that absurd nickname. "It was a nightmare, Gusta, nothing more. It has ended, all is fine."

Poppy pursed her lips. "No it's _not__._ Min, you've been acting strange ever since you talked with your family. Whatever happened between you and your mum is clearly still upsetting you."

"It would upset you too if your mother was going insane before your very eyes!" Minerva snapped, severing her connections as she did. "I don't want to talk about it, Poppy, so leave the matter be."

Feeling the need to shower, she removed herself from the bed and left for the bathrooms without another word to her friends. Pulling off her damp clothes, she noticed her reflection in the mirror and tilted her head to the side. Seeing that no sign remained of the cut, she breathed a sigh of relief.

_Just a dream. __It was a dream. _

Yet no matter how much she told herself that, when she got into the shower, lathered her hair with shampoo and let the water soak her skin, she couldn't stop herself from breaking into sobs. With the warm droplets running down her face, she could almost remember what it was like to have her own tears trickle down her cheeks... and not the ones in her nightmares.

Her mother wasn't going to make her doubt Galatea.

Never again.

* * *

><p>Minerva spent most of the day alone, studying and finishing essays, all the while trying to keep herself from thinking about her mother. Every now and then she caught herself hoping Galatea would summon her so they could do something because even when she thought about it, Minerva wasn't sure what she wanted. For the past week she had felt a desperate need to talk with her mentor about so many things, but today she was uncertain if she was emotionally capable of holding any sort of serious conversation with Galatea. At the same time, however, sheknew she wanted to be with the woman, to hear her voice and feel her arms around her. So when Fawkes paid her an unexpected visit and delivered a letter from her guardian containing a request to meet, Minerva left immediately.<p>

"Hello, hello, dear!" Sir Morrison greeted her when she reached his portrait. "Professor Merrythought is just finishing her floo-call with _Ath-sgal,_ and she will join with you in the living room shortly."

The Gryffindor nodded her thanks, then walked through the door. As she ventured into the living room, her senses picked up a hint of peppermint. It amused her that she had grown so accustomed to the scent that her mind automatically associated it with Galatea, much like anything lemony now made her think of Professor Dumbledore. It was more than the fragrance of these rooms that made everything seem so familiar, except she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.

Closing her eyes, she let her fingers run across the mantelpiece, the coffee table, the lamp stands, and allowed her mind to wander. For a moment, she felt as if she could almost grasp the answer as faded and blurry images flickered through her mind- but they were never enough for her to distinguish whether she was imagining them, or if they were from somewhere deep inside her memories.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, _luaidh _[darling], the conversation went on longer than I anticipated," Galatea's voice echoed from behind her. Minerva gradually opened her green eyes, then blinked a few times.

"Minerva?" her mentor asked again after a moment.

"Why do you use peppermint?" the Gryffindor asked absently, not quite ready to face her.

"I enjoy the calming effect and it helps stimulate the mind more than other fragrances; although really, I use it because it is highly effective at masking my wolf-scent." She heard the Galatea move closer. "Darling, what is troubling you?"

Minerva turned around to face her and leaned into the woman's offered embrace. Neither witch spoke for a while and Minerva took the time to settle into the comfort that was being provided before finally answering.

"Nothing."

"My dear, I do not believe that for a minute. Poppy caught Helena and I this morning and told us about your nightmare. I _know_ something is bothering you."

Minerva narrowed her eyes at the revelation. While she knew her sister was only concerned about her, but that didn't excuse going behind her back. She'd have to deal with that later though. The Gryffindor sighed, allowing her frustration, anger, hurt, and exhaustion to mix with it. She was so very tired of living a life where even her very own memories proved be invalid at times. It just wasn't right.

"What did Isobel say to you the other day, _leannan_ [sweetheart]?"

The green-eyed witch stiffened as the Gaelic word triggered her to remember a part of her dream.

_Minerva pulled and tugged, fighting past the pain - desperately tried to reach the elder witch. "Galatea, help me!"_

"_Take my hand, leannan [sweetheart]!"_

"Can we not talk about it?" she pleaded.

Galatea tilted her chin up, forcing her gaze to meet concerned crystal eyes. "Please tell me."

Feeling her emotions swell up inside her, Minerva tilted her head to the side to remove Galatea's gentle hold as she looked away. "Why does it even matter? She's trying to manipulate me."

Minerva rested her head against her mentor's shoulder. Galatea didn't speak, she just held her close and ran her fingers through Minerva's dark hair.

"I shall let it go for now, though I do want to talk about it later. However, I..." she paused, "well, I have something to tell you; something I have been meaning to say for a while now. Can we sit down?"

The Gryffindor nodded her head, concentrating on her curiosity rather than the pain in her heart. They settled on the sofa with their bodies facing each other.

"Hiding this from you started out primarily because I wanted to have a better relationship with you before I said anything about it; but then we feared how you would react, because of your muggle upbringing you might hold a prejudice. I- I almost told you that night we were patrolling the castle grounds, before you noticed the owl, but I was still afraid you would not accept _us_," Galatea trailed off, looking up at Minerva as she clasped her hand. "Forgive me, I am rambling. What I am trying to say is; Helena and I are in a relationship, and we have been for- what will be -thirty seven years on New Year's day."

Minerva let all her overwhelming emotions vanish as a smile appeared on her face. "So Poppy_ was _right!" When her mentor's sharp brows quirked in confusion, the Gryffindor quickly explained how Poppy came to her theory, then continued, "I didn't want to ask you without proof because while you and Helena are both very wonderful to me, and I love you two so dearly; you are still my professor and Helena, the head matron. I wanted to spare any awkwardness that might arise if we were wrong. I'm sorry if that made things difficult for you and Helena, but I'm very glad that you've told me now. It won't change a thing, I promise."

"I am _so_ very happy to hear you say that, darling, and I know Helena will be too." Galatea's eyes were positively sparkling. "Gods, I know it was silly of me to be so fearful, but after what happened when your athair when found out..." she shook her head, "the last thing Helena and I wanted was to lose you because of _us_."

Minerva furrowed her brows, her father had always been a man that expressed the value of tolerance for as long as she could remember. What Galatea said didn't sound like him at all.

"What did my father do?"

Galatea pursed her lips as she recalled the distasteful memory. "After our relationship was revealed, Isobel tried and failed several times to persuade him to see a differently, but after several days of no contact, we feared that your athair would not return."

"But he did."

"Only after Sinium had a chat with him. I do not know what your seanair said, but Robert did return and somehow found it within himself to at least feign indifference towards Helena and I. It is of no matter now, Helena and I have forgiven him, but we did not want to go through that whole scenario again with you and your brothers."

"I'm certain that they won't think any differently than I have." Minerva's smile only lasted for a moment, before a thought came to mind. "Actually, that reminds me of something I've been meaning to say. I spoke with Professor Dumbledore about a week ago and he told me about what happened on the night of my overload; specifically what I said to you in my delirious state."

She swallowed hard as she forced herself to return Galatea's gaze and continued quietly. "It made me realise why you tried to keep your Gaelic background hidden from me. I know I apologized for yelling at you before, but I'm doing it again- this time for the pain that I didn't know I was causing you."

A sad smile curved Galatea's lips.

"_Luaidh_ [daring]," she began, clasping her hands around Minerva's more firmly and pausing briefly to brush over where her Animagus markings were hidden, "it is in the past, now. You did not know, and it is most certainly not _your_ fault. That day…" Galatea's voice trembled, "Merlin, that dreadful, day. I will never forget it."

"What did Màthair do to me?" the Gryffindor peered into her mentor's eyes, pleading for an answer. "Professor Dumbledore said you were there when she, for want of a better word, _'operated'_ on my mind."

"I sometimes wish I had not been, though. What your màthair did after she saved your life is almost unforgivable."

Minerva pursed her lips at her mentor's reluctant to talk about the event and decided to press about what she knew. "Galatea, I know that she erased what my overload didn't that day."

"You do?"

A simple nod was all that was needed before the elder witch release the tears she had been fighting and stood up from the couch. Minerva watched the older woman walk closer to the fire, arms wrapped around herself and head bowed. As Galatea's shoulders shook, her heart lurched at the dramatic emotional change from just a minute ago. It was disturbing to see how deep the damage done by Isobel really was.

"Would you have condemned me for telling her, Izzy?" Minerva barely heard the whisper, but it's impact sliced at her heart when she realised why Galatea was spoke in past tense. She nearly leaped to her mentor's side.

"Galatea, you don't-"

"Do you know about the others, then?" her mentor interjected, wiping her tears.

For a moment, Minerva considered sparing the elder witch further pain and lying to her, but she immediately rejected it. She needed as much information as she possibly could get.

"All nine of them."

Galatea paled considerably. Shakily, she braced a hand against the mantle while the other covering her heart with the other, suddenly appearing ever more fragile as the seconds passed and causing Minerva to cringe and almost regret her choice.

"_Nine?_" the elder witch swallowed. "I- I knew about three others, but... _**nine?**_ I never thought- Oh Gods, Izzy, what have you done? She is your daughter..." she murmured her words so quietly that Minerva had to strain to hear them. Galatea covered her mouth, subtly shaking her head as tears seeped from her lashes and flowed down the lines of her face. "She's gone... After seventeen years, one would think that I should have realised that by now, but I... I-"

Galatea's voice cracked and Minerva clasped her mentor's free hand, then moved closer, drawing her into an embrace as she wept. It was then that she fully realised that Helena had been right; Galatea still hadn't come to terms with her mother abandoning them. She held her even after her tears stopped and breathing had evened out all the while wishing that she could heal the agony her guardian had suffered throughout the years. The time they spent in silence went unnoticed to either of them. Minerva didn't care how long she spent in Galatea's arms, she would have stayed for all eternity if it was necessary to mend her mentor's heart.

"Two that I know of both took place when you were nearing four year old," her mentor finally rasped after several minutes.

Minerva quickly recalled information on her adaquels, and questions instantly popped in her mind. "Would Màthair have erased one? Two of my adaquels took place just weeks, possibly even days apart. The later was erased, but the other was merely suppressed."

"That, sounds familiar." Galatea sighed heavily and refused to return Minerva's gaze. "I will tell you a little of the one that was erased, it is not fair that she tampered with your memories that much. It was only five days after the other. I came to your màthair in London and tried to plead with her to reconsider her refusal to allow me to see you. You were there with her when that happened, and Isobel was not happy about it."

Green eyes blinked. She really _had_ known Galatea before coming to Hogwarts, and her mother had tried to ensure that she would never remember it!

_This is absolutely absurd! There can't be a good enough reason for all this!_

"How much do you know about the earlier adaquel? I know that it takes place over seven days," she pried cautiously.

The elder witch's pale eyes glazed over as she stared at the fire. She didn't speak for what felt like several minutes, but when she did, Minerva instantly recognised the raw agony in her voice.

"Don't... please, donnae ask me about that one. It is too painful for me, probably Helena too. It took us a long time to put it in the past, I would rather not bring it up."

Minerva snuggled up closer to her and wrapped her arms around Galatea more tightly. She decided to honor her mentor's request mostly because she was going to find out what had happened with Mikail's help anyway. "Okay, I won't ask."

Galatea blinked as she looked down at her, then opened her mouth to speak, but she still hesitated before she did. "The other I know about was when you were five. One of the elderly Gaelic women spotted me as a wolf while I was watching you, Miss Pomfrey and Miss Hooch playing in the fields. The woman then shrieked, so I quickly disappeared..."

"_Come on, Poppy!"_

_She hears Rolanda holler across the field as she and Poppy run to meet her on top of the hill. It was a warm summer Sunday, and the three of them were wearing dresses. Minerva's hair was tied in two braids with green bows at the ends._

"_No way, my dress will get dirty. Mum'll be mad at me!"_

"_You're such a goody two-shoes," Rolanda groans, rolling her eyes that were charmed to appear blue, before she turns to Minerva. "Come on, Min, tumble down the hill with me!"_

"_I don't know, my Màthair'll be mad too__. __I promised Papa that I'd be good __'cause__ Màthair's been so tired-"_

"_Don't you want to?"_

"_I do, but-"_

"_If you don't do it, I'll go around the whole village and tell everyone that you're a scaredy cat."_

_Minerva's green eyes narrow with irritation. "That's not fair! You don't do that to Poppy!"_

"_She doesn't care, but you do." The hawk-eyed girl pulls Minerva towards the hill. "Ready?"_

_Minerva glances back at her mother, who was holding her newborn baby brother and talking to one of the Gaelic elders. Knowing Rolanda's idea was a bad one, she tugs her hand away._

"_No, Rola, I-"_

"_FAOL!" a terrifying scream echoes in her ear and she jumps, her head whipping around to face the old woman pointing in their direction. "FAOL!"_

_Minerva quickly turns her head again to look in the direction she was pointing, when she sees a beautiful grey wolf peering at her with a peculiar expression, almost as if it desperately wanted or needed something from her, before vanishing._

"_FAOL!"_

"_Caroline, stop screaming, you're going to scare the children!" Minerva hears her mother hush the woman as she carefully gave the sleeping baby Malcom to Robert. "Wolves have been extinct in Scotland for over a century, you know that."_

_Curiosity nabs Minerva and she quickly runs further into the field where the wolf had been, keeping one ear open to the old woman rambling on in Gaelic, protesting Isobel's attempt to calm her down. She thinks that the wolf needs her help. She doesn't think about why, nor is there any fear in her mind. She just wants to know what is wrong, why the wolf came, and if she could do anything._

"_Min, come back!" she heard Poppy hiss as she ran towards her and tugs her back towards her parents._

"_Minerva, Poppy, Rolanda! All three of you, __c__ome here this instant!" Minerva hears her mother __shout__ as she quickly rushes towards the young trio. "Go home you three, right now!" Isobel barks at her daughter with fury in her eyes, making Minerva jump again with fear._

"_But- but it needs-"_

"_Do not question me, young lady! It's about to rain, so march straight home! Poppy, Rolanda, go to our Manor, your parents won't be back yet."_

_Minerva glances back, fearing that her mother was going to keep her from helping the animal! "Mathair, the wolf needs-"_

"_There was no wolf."_

"_Yes there is, I saw it!"_

"_Hush, Minerva! Wolves no longer exist in Britain. It was a feral dog, nothing more, you understand? Now go on."_

"...I got carried away." Galatea's voice brought her back to reality. "Usually, I kept myself under a disillusion charm, but I let my emotions rule over that time." The elder witch paused as Minerva tried to calm her body that started shaking. "Darling, are you all right?"

"I remember..." she clenched her fists."I remember seeing you in your Animagus form just a few yards away from where I was standing. I was convinced you needed my help," she faced her mentor.

It was so obvious now, not only was that how she had known what _'faol'_ meant, but she was certain that it was part of the dreamlike image of the wolf she remembered from a year ago in the room of requirement. _Where else __c__ould it have come from?_

"I thought Isobel would have wanted to suppress that," she heard Galatea muse quietly.

"She did," Minerva admitted, doing her best to bury her anger at her mother as a hundred _'whys'_ filled her thoughts, "but it must not have been done very well, or talking about it triggered it to resurface."

Her mentor frowned, then blinked a few times as a peculiar expression crossed her face and she turned to look behind her, towards the hallway where the bedrooms were. Minerva then heard the sound of footsteps coming their way- the soft thumps of a cane following them -before a familiar voice rang in her ears.

"_Mo gaol_ [My love], I wondered if you'd- oh..." the moment Helena walked into the room and caught sight of Minerva sitting on the sofa, she froze. Her grey eyes flickered back and forth between the two witches before her as she struggled to keep her apparent fear under control. "Hello, Minerva..."

"It's all right, _gaol _[love]," Galatea smiled. "She finally knows- well actually, she seems to have known for quite a while, but I've just confirmed it."

"And I'm very happy for you two," Minerva added for good measure.

All traces of fear in Helena's expression evaporated and she walked over to join them. "Thank you, Minerva, truly, it means the world to me- to _us._" The matron bent to kiss the Gryffindor's temple, the turned towards Galatea as she rose. "I told you."

"Oi, _tha fhios agam _[I know]."

Helena chuckled lightly. "Oh, what am I going to do with you?"

"What you always do; let me kiss you and then make you some tea."

"You could have the elves make it, you know."

"Aye, but I make it better, and _I_ can guarantee that it will not contain poison."

"You are ridiculous," the matron said with a grin.

"_Tha gaol agamsa ort fhèin, eudial_ [I love you too, dear]. I am not your paranoid ex-Auror for nothing." Galatea leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Helena's lips, before taking a quick glance at Minerva. "Well there is your proof, darling. I will make sure your cup is Highland Heather."

The professor winked, and then walked away; leaving a blushing matron shaking her head and a chuckling Gryffindor in her wake.

"Is she like that a lot?"

"Overly suspicious and a little bit foxy? Oh yes..." Helena's grey eyes shone with amusement as she took a seat next to the young woman. She then stared at the Gryffindor for a moment, apparently searching for an indication of something, and suddenly Minerva got the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that she managed to failed at

"Minerva," the matron crossed her arms, "why haven't you come to me about your nightmares? I told you to come back to me if you developed them."

"They haven't been about that..." she refrained from using a much more derogatory word, "_snake."_

_I'm not__ s__ure __if I'd prefer it be, or not though..._

"I see," Helena's grey eyes studied her further, but she then relaxed against the couch. "Forgive me for jumping to conclusions then, Poppy told me that you had struggled as if you were being attacked, so I assumed that was it."

_A claw-like hand traced down her jaw line to her chin. Her emerald eyes snapped open. Cold, hazel, orbs stared back. Tradisi's claw-like nails repositioned. They traced over her brow and down her temple, cutting into Minerva's skin. Blood seeped through her pale skin. Isobel grabbed her arm and Minerva struggled for Galatea like some sort of marionette as the cut grew deeper and increasingly more agonizing._

"_Let go!" she yelled. "Let go, Màthair, it hurts!"_

"_Stop struggling!"_

"I was being attacked," Minerva blinked, speaking softly, "just not by _him._"

"What was it about?"

"I don't really know," she lied, unable to accept that a witch who had been dead for almost six years now was still haunting her thoughts. "I just remember being trapped in a pit of darkness and a woman with claw-like nails was trying to suffocate me."

Helena pursed her lips. "I wonder, did you have trouble sleeping the night before?" The matron's grey eyes softened after Minerva gave a gentle nod. "It might have been a side effect of the potion I gave you. I'm so sorry, dear."

While it could very likely be true, Minerva knew that the effects of the time-turner could also be to blame. Her emotions this weekend had been so out of control; it was only logical that the device was playing with her mind.

"Please don't trouble yourself with it, Helena. It just was a dream." She forced a reassuring smile. "I've dealt with worse."

"Which is, in itself, a very sad reality of this world."

"Do I dare ask what you are talking about?" Galatea queried, walking back into the room. She waved her hand, summoning three steaming cups of tea onto the table nearest the three witches.

"Minerva's nightmare," the matron replied simply as she reached for her cup. "Thank you for the tea, dear."

Minerva echoed her sentiments as she took a sip, relishing the taste of her favourite brew.

"You are both very welcome." The elder witch sat down next to her partner and wrapped her hands around her teacup as she continued speaking. "Well, my dear, since you are already conversing about it, are you ready to talk about what is bothering you now?"

"I'd rather not."

"I understand, I did not enjoy talking about my troubles when I was your age either, darling."

Helena smirked, huffing with amusement. "You still don't,_ mo gaol_ [my love]."

Galatea flashed a glare at the matron, causing Minerva's mood to lighten considerably. They were just so comical together.

"You are supposed to be helping me, _eudail_ [dear]."

"You can't have expected me to not revel that after dealing with _you _for the past forty-two years!" Helena's smile changed into a smirk when Galatea rolled her eyes, before directing her attention at Minerva once more. "How about you start by telling us what happened at the Manor?"

"She was messing with my mind. There was so much hypocrisy in our conversation that I don't know where to start."

"Did she tell you to stay away from me?" Galatea's tone was all of a sudden laced with such ice and venom, that it startled Minerva. "Did she tell you that I am going to _'make things worse'_ for you, just as I did for her?"

The Gryffindor frowned; she thought about confirming her mentor's question, except she had a feeling both witches already knew the answer to it. "How close were you both to my màthair?"

Helena's grey orbs flicked to Galatea, all traces of amusement had vanished from her face. "_Gaol_ [Love], if you don't tell her, I will. I don't see any reason why she should be kept in the dark about this any longer."

"Neither do I," the elder witch murmured, her voice closer to normal now.

"Professor Slughorn mentioned that she had become a much more 'lively' witch after her first year at Hogwarts. Did you two have something to do with that?"

Her mentor nodded slowly. "I like to think so."

"We _did_," Helena gripped the elder witch's hand. "Darling, don't try to diminish the impact we- most importantly _you_ -had on Izzy's life, regardless of how she's acting now. We did _everything_ we could for her! You and I helped her overcome her nightmares, we showed her that there wasn't evil lurking in every bloody shadow, we convinced her that not everyone was going to hurt her, we taught her that magic could be used for good, and we convinced her that love really does exist. Gods, we taught her how to _live!_ You know that, you also know very well that I alone would not have been able to remove Isobel from Tradisi's custody as efficiently as you did- and please don't make me remind you what could have happened if you hadn't intervened."

When Galatea flinched at the last remark, it was clearly evident of how disturbing that thought was her mentor. After hearing Helena's words, Minerva couldn't deny that she too felt uncomfortable. It sounded as if her mother had been looked in a room and abused until she came to Hogwarts- and unfortunately that seemed exactly like something Tradisi would have done.

"_What_ could have happened?" she pressed.

The elder witch swallowed. "Claire foresaw that Isobel had a fifty percent chance of being killed by Tradisi if I did not remove her from her mother's custody, so I acted. Divination or not, I could not let chance decide whether she lived or died, not, not _her_..."

Galatea's words drifted off as a glaze covered her eyes and she looked down towards her hands. Her breathing grew heavy and Helena shifted to wrap an arm around her partner's shoulders. Something seemed a little _off_ by Galatea's words, however, seeing her so overcome with anguish was much more troubling. How her mother could possibly abandon and cause so much suffering to these two women who had done so much for her, and then live with herself afterwards, was beyond Minerva's comprehension.

"Does Màthair know about that?"

"We told her a few years later," Helena spoke after it was clear Galatea was going to keep silent, "but we believe she already knew that her mother was not above killing her own daughter. She told us that, before she was even six years old, she was aware that Tradisi had murdered…" grey eyes darkened, as she hesitated "…_several_ people."

Minerva shivered as the memory of Christmas Eve 1937 unfolded in her mind, and this time with much more clarity regarding her mother's actions that day. Isobel thought Minerva had been out of earshot when she agreed to kill her daughter, but she had not been; and as a consequence, Minerva grew up believing exactly what her own mother had at her age.

For a moment, she thought about how different she might view her mother if she had obeyed, if she had gone to the library and never overheard the conversation; or better yet, if Isobel had only just informed her of what _really_ happened. However, when Minerva reminded herself that her mother had tampered with her memories; that she had abandoned Galatea and Helena _and _refused to let them have any involvement in her life; that there were so many secrets that Isobel was hiding even as her mental state grew increasingly warped; she refused to let herself feel any remorse.

"Why does Màthair want me to stay away from you? You were right, she did mentioned that her relationship with you _'complicated things'_, that your influence will make things worse for me, just as they did for her. I just can't bring myself believe a word that, it seems so ludicrous."

Unease prickled at her skin as she waited for Galatea to say something, but she didn't.

Watching the matron draw closer to her partner to whisper in her ear, Minerva pondered why Isobel never warned her about Helena being capable of any 'wrongdoing'. After all, it was she who wasn't bound by a vow, thus making her the gaping flaw in her mother's quest to hide all information about the past from her. She knew it wouldn't have been overlooked either- her mother had been sorted into Ravenclaw for a reason.

_Did she just assume Helena wouldn't be an issue because of her devotion to Galatea? It can't be that simple. Helena is more reluctant to keep these secrets hidden and she was able to see through Màthair's manipulation before Galatea ever did. Màthair would have known that._

"Galatea, she's seventeen," Helena pleaded softly. "She needs to know what's going on before the whole situation gets worse."

"Izzy said she would tell her when she turned eighteen," the elder witch finally murmured back to Helena. "One more year and-"

"-and just how many promises has _she_ upheld since you took your vow?"

"That is not the point."

"I think it is, especially when only two months passed before she forbade us from coming to the Manor and effectively shut us out of her and her family's life!" Helena lowered her voice. "Isobel is gone, _mo goal_ [my love]. Our job now is to protect her children as best we can."

The elder witch let out a deep sigh before she refocused her attention on Minerva. She waited another moment, clearly still conflicted about her decision, before her thin lips finally parted.

"Isobel believes that if I had not taken her from Tradisi, then the 'disorder' that runs through the Ravenclaw bloodline would have ended. Maybe that is true, maybe it would have never developed if I had not intervened- but if I had done nothing, then she would have either _died_, or spent the rest of her childhood being _tortured_ and forced to use the _darkest_ spells magic can create! In my mind there was no other option."

"Wait- Màthair _wouldn't_ have developed her magical insanity if she _had _used the Dark Arts?" Minerva set her tea down, she had a bad feeling that something was about to take a very dark twist.

"If she used them frequently over the course of her life, I believe not, no."

"How the bloody hell does that work? That goes against all psychological and magical laws-!"

"Because while it acts as a magical disorder, it is actually a curse," Galatea interrupted. "Do you remember when I told you about Rowena's affair with Salazar Slytherin, and about her two daughters?"

Minerva stiffened at the memory. "You said that after Rowena died, Athena stole Slytherin's texts and began using the Dark Arts to torture, thus causing her to..." She blinked as it all came together. "Did Athena create the curse?"

"She undoubtedly made it worse, but no, she did not create it. I did not tell you the entire story that day. You see, Rowena Ravenclaw did not just die of a broken heart as the legend claims. Before she was married, Rowena sought out the sirens to cast a Blood spell on her to ensure that all first-born children descended from her would be female. Siren magic, though, always comes at a price. Rowena was subjected to a curse that would- over many years -twist her personality, warp her sense of all reality, and cause her to become insane; but what Rowena did not realise is that since she summoned a Blood spell, the curse would be passed on to her first-borns as well. Unfortunately because Athena had a different father, she too inherited it; as did her daughter, and the rest of the thirty eight generations leading up to you."

No matter how much she tried, Minerva couldn't shake the sudden eerie feeling she got when Galatea mentioned that the Sirens were involved. It couldn't be coincidence that she met a siren in Loch Ness, that the song it sang was the same tune that Fawkes kept singing around her and that he had specifically given her a Siren's scale. One thing was clear though, the phoenix seemed to be steering her towards uncharted waters.

"Now, while it is true that Helena Ravenclaw was jealous of her siblings' attention," Galatea continued, "the real reason that she stole the diadem was to find a cure for this curse. She reportedly found that using forbidden spells and going through terrible strife at a young age had the tendency to delay the curse from forming and suppress the effects, which is why Athena then did all those horrific things."

"But that's absurd and completely paradoxical! Everyone knows that the more one uses Dark magic, the madder they become!"

"Ironically, that's exactly why it works," Helena added. "Supposedly after seven generations of continuous use of the Dark Arts, the spell causing the disorder will be broken. I don't entirely understand it all myself, and believe me I've done plenty of research, but it is true."

Dread clutched at Minerva's chest as she suddenly felt ill. "Màthair was the seventh."

"Yes, she was," Galatea murmured.

"So that means I'll develop it too."

"No, dear," Helena shook her head. "The curse will not pass on to you. Just as you are the first Gryffindor in your family's history, you will be the first to break from the curse and finally end it."

Minerva pursed her lips. She wanted to believe the matron, but she found herself reluctant to do so. "How can you be so certain? The future is always changing-"

"We can be certain because your ancestors have made countless Arithmancy predictions that calculate you being the witch that marks a new era in your bloodline; and on top of that, the Wizarding community's most powerful Seers foresee no other outcome," Galatea replied calmly. "I am unsure how much you know about Divination and visions, but this is extremely rare, and the only explanation is that it _will _happen."

"Not to mention Rowena's portrait confirmed it to be true, even after your overload," Helena added.

_What does my overload have to do with-? I haven't been able to produce tears since then..._

"Tradisi tried to do more than kill me, didn't she? Is that why I'm not able to cry?" Helena stiffened a little, then glanced at Minerva with a mixed expression of regret and anger, allowing her to easily deduct what hadn't been said. "She tried to make me develop the curse."

"And you would have, if it had not been for your astral deliberately causing trouble," her mentor answered grimly. "I am not sure how she did it; astrals are_ not_ supposed to be able to take over their _"host's" _minds like she did to you that day. She and your màthair did everything they could to reverse the damage Tradisi had caused, but as you have found out, they were unable to repair one small aspect."

Minerva wasn't sure how exactly to process this information. Her mother had done so much harm to her that day, but apparently a lot of good as well. It seemed that no matter how much her mother tended to be cold and emotionless, when it came to her daughter's life, she always made sure she lived. _So why has she been trying her hardest to make my life miserable?... unless that's part of her insanity taking over._

"Try not to be troubled by it, dear." Helena smiled softly. "I'm quite certain that it will cure itself in a few years time."

Minerva tried to appear more optimistic than she felt, if only just to keep her guardians' from worrying. "Well I'm relieved to hear that, at least."

"Is there anything else we can do to help you put your mind at rest?"

"Actually, yes. Màthair admitted that there is something she plans on keeping hidden for as long as possible, maybe even take it to her grave. There's only two people that know about it, both of whom have made an unbreakable vow to never speak of it- which, apparently you, Galatea, are not one of them."

The elder witch paled. "I knew it. There _is_ something else going on..."

"_Or _Tradisi could have dabbled with her mind and fed another lie to her before she died," Helena asserted firmly, looking at her partner. "You _know _she's done that in the past, and with Isobel's mental state deteriorating, she might have started to believe her story even further. We have never discovered any proof that there's something else at work."

"But what if it's not a lie?" Minerva detected a trace of hope in her mentor's voice.

Helena's grey eyes softened in sorrow. "What can we do though, Galatea? She refuses to let us help her, and she kills you inside _every - single - time_ that we try. I want to believe that there's a reason other than the insanity for all the suffering she's caused us, her family, and everyone else, just as much as you do, but there isn't anything that we can do about it right now."

"I just hate not being able to-"

A soft chime echoed in the room and a small piece of parchment appeared on the mantelpiece. Galatea quickly Summoned it to her hand and read it.

"One of _Broc_'s guards think they saw two of the missing cats in the alley behind The Hog's Head. _Broc_ needs me to check it out."

"Oh great, another adventure," Helena muttered in a tone set between sarcasm and deadly seriousness. "Hopefully this time it doesn't lead to either of us getting injured."

"Dear, you need to rest, Friday took a lot out of you. It is just a check, and if I need back up, you know I will ask for it."

Given by the glare Helena gave the elder witch, Minerva was sure the matron wasn't convinced.

"Speaking of _Broc,_" Minerva spoke up, "was he by chance in the stands watching me after the game yesterday?"

"No, that was me- wait, did you say _in_ the stands? Are you sure it wasn't from the pitch-side?"

"I'm positive. I felt the anomaly _in_ the stands to my left, about twenty feet away. Where were you?"

"Under the stands and to your _right._"

"You didn't catch it, the anomaly, either?"

"If you use your awareness while cloaked, it guarantees that your presence can be felt from time to time, it's the one flaw with the disillusion charm," Galatea explained, pursing her lips. "I'll investigate this further, but for now, it's just another reminder that you must stay constantly vigilant."

The elder witch held her stare for a heartbeat, wordlessly communicating her fears about if the worst should happen, then took two steps forward and embraced Minerva.

"_Tha gaol agam ort_," Galatea kissed her cheek. "I love you."

"_Tha goal agam ort_..." she paused, trying to search for the word she wanted.

"_Fhèin,_" the elder witch supplied, her happiness visibly shining in her eyes as she stepped back. "_Tha gool agam ort fhèin_, is '_I love you, too'_."

Minerva flushed, feeling as if she should have known that. "Right."

"Don't worry about it, dear, it'll all come with time. It took me at least a year to get where you are, and I had this expert helping me the entire time," the matron said with a smile as she slid her arm around Galatea's.

"No need to flatter me, dear."

"I'm merely telling the truth," Helena added, then focused once again on Minerva- who was simply enjoying seeing the two women so happy. "Have a good rest of your day, and do be careful."

"I will."

The Gryffindor left the room, for once, feeling oddly satisfied with what she knew. Maybe she shouldn't feel so content after about finding out about the curse, what was to eventually happen to happen to her mother, as well as what _could_ have happened; however, she was just simply unsure how to come to grips with it all. How could someone handle that kind of information and keep their head above water? Besides, she had to focus on her classes and keeping her grades at Outstanding.

Nevertheless, her feeling of satisfaction may have changed dramatically if she had heard the conversation that Galatea and Helena continued after the portrait door closed behind her.

"I won't be able to keep_ it_ quiet much longer, will I?"

"Are you talking about when you spared Tradisi's life, or… I see. Well, maybe for another year at most, although I doubt she'll piece together the... _inevitable_. She won't want to think, or believe, what's to come."

* * *

><p><strong>'Till next time! ;)<strong>

**~LinK**


	46. Strange Occurrences

**Another day in this carnival of souls**

**Another night settles in as quickly as it goes**

**The memories are shadows; ink on the page**

**And I can't seem to find my way home**

~Far From Home by Five Finger Death Punch

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 38 - Strange Occurrences<strong>

**November 23rd, 1942:**

"Hey, Minerva!" Kevin called as he rushed towards her with his bag full of today's _Daily Prophet_ issue, and if the grin on his face said anything, there was good news to be found. "I think you'll want to read today's headlines."

"What's happened?"

"You'll see, but I'm fairly certain it'll make your day after last week."

The witch smiled, touched at his thoughtfulness. "So tell me, how did you snag a copy this time? Slughorn again?"

"Actually Dumbledore. He seemed quite distracted this morning - didn't even open the paper after it was sent to his office. I've never seen him like that before."

"Neither have I..." Minerva pursed her lips and took a moment to wonder what could be distracting Professor Dumbledore to such extent. It didn't matter how much he tried to hide it, she knew the Ministry was still pressuring him into joining the war. The twinkle in his eyes faded every time it was mentioned around him.

"Good morning, Minerva," the Head Boy greeted as she walked passed him on her way to the Great Hall.

"Good morning, Ignatius," she replied, dashing away her concerns with a blink.

"Do you have a moment? I need to speak with you."

"Certainly, what is it?"

"Keep your voice down and follow me for a minute," Ignatius whispered, his voice edged with desperation and determination as they began walking away from most of the incoming traffic. "My friend, Lucretia, she said she told you something that she shouldn't have. She needs to know if you told anyone."

"Of course not."

"Are you sure?"

"I swear on Merlin's grave, and to the Gods above, that I didn't breathe a word."

Ignatius's shoulders dropped as helplessness flashed in his eyes. "I- I believe you, Minerva, it's just... bugger!" He paced a few steps back and forth, before sighing and staring at her. "She told me not to tell you, but I'm doing it anyway. Lucretia doesn't remember anything about last night; where she was, what she did, when she went to bed, nothing! She woke up this morning still wearing her uniform, but her scarf is missing and her coat was covered in cat hair- yet no one in her dormitory has a cat!"

Minerva tried her hardest not to jump to conclusions, she didn't want to cause unnecessary panic. However, from what Ignatius was describing, she refused to dismiss the grim possibility.

"Is it possible that Lucretia was Imperiused, like Eileen Prince?"

"It's a high probability."

Someone who was lingering for a little too long caught her eye from afar- someone whose presence made her whole body tense.

"No dawdling in the halls, Riddle!" she barked, her eyes glancing at two other Sixth Year Slytherins. "Goyle, Avery, that goes for you as well!"

The three Slytherins sneered, but did as they were told and moved off.

"Do you think they heard anything?"

"No, I caught them just in time. Let me know if I can do anything, Ignatius- and I mean it. If Lucretia's being persecuted by her Housemates for what she told me, it's the least I can do."

"Thank you. Let's get inside, I've got a bad feeling about all this."

_Me too..._

As Minerva, Ignatius and a few other students walked into the Great Hall, it was very clear that something was different this morning. Not only were there several Ministry officials present, but the Great Hall seemed to have a Silencing charm placed over it. There were only four staff members present; Sir Shanks, Professor Kettleburn, and the Flying and Magical Theory instructors. The Librarian was standing at the Slytherin table, while the others and the Head Girl were supervising the rest of the students.

"Oh no..." Ignatius murmured, his gaze set on Lucretia Black. The Slytherin Prefect was pale, looking down at her plate and clutching her arms as her body trembled. There was another girl nearby, comforting her, but the rest of the Slytherins were sending her nasty glares.

Ignatius was called to join the Head Girl and Minerva took her seat at the Gryffindor table. Anxious thoughts buzzed in her mind when she noticed Augusta was missing, then became outright fearful when she was told Professor Dumbledore had called Augusta and two others away. Minerva searched for the owners of the two other missing cats but they were nowhere to be found. Everyone looked so worried, Rolanda and Poppy especially, although Minerva assumed that their extra concern was because she was blocking her thoughts to prevent them from knowing about Lucretia. It was evident that something happened last night, and if Minerva's suspicions were correct, Galatea had discovered something about the cats' whereabouts.

Like most students, Minerva silently waited for news to come, but as the minutes ticked by, the more anxious she became, and even the sight of Pomona and Hestia- who were sitting side by side and holding hands -failed to brighten her morning. About twenty minutes went by before every student gave up and began speaking in hushed whispers as they ate. Despite the scrutinizing glares from the Ministry officials, Minerva was quite grateful that Kevin handed out the duplicate copies of the _Prophet_ under the table. She only needed to glance at the headline as she shared her copy with Michael Thomas to realise what Kevin had meant earlier.

_**M.E.A.R. Continues to Decimate the Anhänger in Stalingrad**_

_Since the Soviets launched Operation Uranus in league with M.E.A.R. on September 19th, they have been extremely successful in pushing back the Anhänger. The Soviet Muggles' Red Army has also made extraordinary progress and are set to completely surround the Nazis and press forth. Commander Shacklebolt stated that without collaboration between both worlds, such success would not have been possible._

_This follows after the Nightingales successfully infiltrated and destroyed the Untergang's base on the night Operation Uranus began - allowing both worlds to begin the siege to reclaim Stalingrad. The Nightingale task force were not seen after their victory and thus were unavailable for comment about the status of their team, however, an anonymous Nightingale member reported that all were safe and accounted for._

"How the hell did the Nightingales pull that off?" Michael whispered. "Last time M.E.A.R. tried something like that with a squad of twenty, they were all slaughtered!"

"They are good, aren't they?" Minerva murmured.

"More than good. It's no wonder they're the Untergang's arch enemy- makes you really want to know to know who their leader is? You don't think it's Dumbledore, do you? I mean he's been frequently absent since this war started and the head of the Nightingales would have to be pretty powerful."

Minerva restrained from rolling her eyes. Any number of people would fit his vague reasoning just as well, such as Galatea Merrythought for example. "Michael, Professor Dumbledore has been gone because of the Ministry won't leave him alone. He's a very important man, and besides, he has no interest in joining the war."

"Such a shame, they could really use him."

Instinctively she retorted back, more than ready to defend her beloved professor. "He's needed _here_ what with this monster running about-"

_-and the Untergang, plus whatever else is going on at the moment!_ she thought to herself.

"True, but if these attacks continue, it won't matter. The school will have to close."

Minerva narrowed her brows, recalling the Minister's frustrating reluctance to even begin entertaining plans for another school. She was about to comment when the door leading to the Staff Room swung open and every person inside the Hall looked up as professors and Ministry workers poured through with _very_ angry expressions- the most frightening belonging to Professor Merrythought and Evangeline Orpington. Both witches appeared ready to engage in a duel with the next person who dared to set off their temper.

As the three remaining Heads of House remained near, the headmaster and the Minister moved to speak to everyone and it was only then that Minerva noticed Galatea carrying a green and silver scarf in her hand. She flashed a glance at Lucretia and upon seeing the witch in a state of shock and despondency, as if she couldn't fully absorb what was happening, it was apparent that she had seen the scarf as well.

While the attention in the Great Hall was solely focused on Evangeline Orpington, the Minister waited to speak anyway as she stared down the students on each table before clearing her throat. "Students of Hogwarts, I'm sure many of you are aware that three feline familiars have been missing for a week."

Evangeline paused momentarily, giving Minerva enough time to predict what the news was and for dread to twist her stomach.

"Last night one of the three were found, but it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that it, along with several other strays, were discovered dead in an alley at Hogsmeade. It is believed that Unforgivables were involved, and current evidence shows that one student- maybe more -conducted this horrific deed."

The collective gasps from the shocked students echoed around Minerva as her widened eyes immediately connected with Galatea's gaze. Her expression told Minerva everything the elder witch was feeling.

Powerless.

Absolutely powerless.

The Untergang, the monster, Riddle, and now _this._ The Imperius and Cruciatus Curses were bad enough, but nothing could be worse than the _Killing_ Curse...

Death. The end of life. Gone, forever, never to return.

It was the curse that caused more suffering for the victim's friends and family, rather than the victim themselves. She could tell that Galatea hadn't slept and Minerva knew she would have done the same if she been in her position.

"I don't think I need to remind any of you about how serious a crime this is," Minerva's focus returned as the Minister continued speaking, "or that even though an Unforgivable was used on animals, that it does not excuse the caster from being sent straight to Azkaban. As such, this investigation will be conducted by both the Ministry and your professors. If you know any information pertaining to this event, come forth. What you have to say will be both private and anonymous, as I am not blind to the fact that there may be-" she glared at the Slytherin table, "those who wish to keep you silent. That being said, if at any point you feel threatened, a representative from the Ministry will accompany you around the castle. From this point on, we- the Ministry -will have officials monitoring classes, halls, and House Common Rooms at random. Be aware that we may be conducting dormitory searches; if we feel there is reason, then mail and floo conversations may be monitored; and all but certain few extra curricular activities will be suspended until-"

"Does that mean Quidditch?" Rolanda interrupted brashly, her golden eyes blazing.

"The goal of limiting activities is to prevent the matter from-"

"Is Quidditch being cancelled or not?" Rolanda stood up, as did many others who were clearly as determined as she was to prevent their only method of escaping their dark reality to be taken from them. Minerva might have done the same, except she agreed with what the Minister was doing under any other circumstances. Limiting student's activities meant they could catch whoever was sneaking around at night to committing these crimes much easier than if the school population was wandering around the grounds. She loved the game with all her heart, however, safety had was a much higher priority.

"Quiet!" The headmaster bellowed and most of the students sat back down. "Quidditch is postponed until the investigation is complete."

While everyone else sat down, Poppy had to grab Rolanda's wrist and pull her back into her seat. Minerva caught her brother's worried stare and briefly wondered if he had discovered that she was an Animagus, but told herself firmly that he was simply frightened of this latest development. She did have a knack of getting into trouble, after all.

"I'd like remind each and every one of you that Hogwarts will not tolerate students threatening one another, and for any student who is caught doing so_,_will be severely punished," Professor Dippet warned. "Classes will resume normally, but Ministry officials and Professors will be questioning select students until this matter is resolved." He turned towards Galatea. "Professor Merrythought, if you will begin."

Galatea stared at him coldly for just a moment before holding up her hand to display the scarf and glared at the table of students wearing green and silver. "A Slytherin has recently lost their scarf. Which one of you is it?" Lucretia paled even further as she stood up. "Come with me, please."

As Lucretia was led from the Hall, everywhere Minerva looked, students jumped to conclusions. They began whispering, or our right shouting as ghastly words were exchanged and erupted like Fiendfyre. For those like Minerva and her friends who realised how wrong the whole scene was, all they could do was clutch their wands and refrain from Silencing several thick-headed people as they listened to it all.

"_She has been acting strange recently!"_

"_I didn't think she would ever do such a thing..."_

"_Well what do you expect? She's a Black!"_

"_Everyone knows the Blacks are Dark wizards-"_

"_-they practice the Dark Arts at home on their elves-"_

"_-capable of the most atrocious things!"_

Minerva was quite certain she saw a tear slide down Lucretia's face as she instinctively drew closer to Galatea's side.

"_What kind of person slaughters animals?"_

"_A Black bitch with a black heart, that's who!"_

"_Murderer!"_

"_Azkaban!"_

"SILENCE!" Professor Merrythought commanded in a voice that seemed to chill every witch and wizard to the bone- even Minerva. She had never heard her mentor bark like that in her life.

Galatea, who was uncannily living up to her Animangus as an alpha-wolf, continued her menacing berate, "The next insensible, foolish, imbecilic cretin, who dares to say another word of this matter before the investigation has ended, or unless they are providing evidence, will be deducted one hundred points from their house. _Is - that - clear?_"

Not a sound was made as every person in the room just stared at the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor in a mixture of awe and terror. It was moments like this that made Minerva wonder why Galatea wasn't Deputy or Headmistress- until she remembered that the Governors who appointed those positions were the Ministry's puppets, and the Ministry _relished_ the ability to pull strings at Hogwarts whenever they could.

When the Great Hall remained silent, Professor Merrythought whipped her head around to level a glare at her colleagues. "I expect this rule to be honoured for the sake of all the students being questioned."

The headmaster squirmed a little when every members of staff expressed their agreement as it was all too clear where the loyalty lay within Hogwarts. As such, neither Professor Dippet, nor Minister Orpington, did anything to challenge or convey their opinion on the matter.

"Avery, Nott," Professor Beery called waving them to his side, as Professor Merrythought ushered a much more collected Lucretia Black from the Great Hall with a Ministry official following close behind.

Professor Slughorn stepped forward next. "Mr Riddle."

"Lestrange, Mulciber, come with me," the Charms professor said.

Several more names were called, even a few Ravenclaws and Gryffindors- most of which had expressed Pure-blood elitist views before. Minerva almost expected for her name to be called, but it never was. Could she risk telling someone or would it be best to wait an see what came of the investigation?

For Lucretia's sake, she would wait.

"Poor Gusta," Poppy whispered, shaking her head. "Even if Oscar wasn't the one in the alley, she's got to be terrified."

"Anyone have an idea where she would be?" Kevin asked.

"Probably Dumbledore's office," Mikail suggested as he slid a hand around Poppy's shoulder, pulling her closer.

"Thanks mate," Kevin nodded.

"I'll come with you," Rolanda muttered as she got up, "I might hex the Minister if I stay here too long." She followed him out of the Great Hall, glaring at the high table until she left the hall.

"I swear, the further into this year ve go, the more Hog_v_arts is becoming like Durmstrang," Mikail muttered under his breath. "It is insane."

Minerva caught Poppy squeezing his hand, her thumb gently brushing across his knuckles.

_Since when did __**that**__ happen?_

Green eyes narrowed as she recalled seeing Poppy and Mikail a little closer than usual for the last few days, but never had the time nor the desire to really find out why. It was clear now, however, that she was most certaintly out of the loop and she wasn't at all sure if she liked it. Not while they were going through such dark times.

"No," Minerva glared at Mikail, making it perfectly clear that she still didn't _completely _trust him, "whoever is doing this is insane."

* * *

><p>To everyone's relief, Oscar hadn't been the murdered cat, but it didn't stop Augusta's frantic worries and by lunchtime she was almost in tears. Just about everyone who owned a cat was locking their doors to prevent their familiars from leaving the dorms, including Minerva. Even though it meant she had to let Mico walk around every other day, she would rather spend the extra time ensuring that he wasn't kidnapped, tortured, and killed.<p>

The fact that she had yet to be questioned was constantly on her mind; if Lucretia told Galatea everything, then surely she would've been interrogated by now. She wanted to speak with Lucretia, however depending on her story, if either witch was seen talking to the other it could possibly make matters worse and that was the last thing she wanted to do. Besides which, conversing about the investigation was not allowed and with Lucretia's 'bodyguard' following her around, it wasn't likely that she would get the chance. The worker assigned to escort Lucretia throughout the castle constantly had his wand out, and for good reason. No matter where they went, there were students clearly contemplating the idea of hexing Lucretia, and every minute Minerva spent watching the harassment, the more she wondered whether it would be better in the long run if she told Galatea what she knew anyway.

After lunch passed, the Ministry posted a list of the activities that were _'postponed'_ until further notice_._ Due to the Ministry's general mistrust of all Animagi, it came as a surprise to Minerva that Animagus Studies would continue especially when both forms of magical and Muggle, Art and Music were removed. She had a theory that the Minister had allowed Animagus Studies to continue because of her specifically- and if that was the case then she would be demand answers -but Minerva forced herself to entertain the more rational thought of Minister needing Animagi in the war effort.

The biggest discomfort she felt was the sudden lack of privacy. All her classes so far had been monitored and every hall she had been down so far had a Ministry worker keeping a lookout. Most of the workers were lackeys, no doubt recently hired, as many of them were former students from the last few years. For Minerva, the looming question in her mind was how she and Mikail were ever going to sneak into the Room of Requirement to recover her second adaquel without being caught. She didn't know how to feel about him any more if she was honest, and it wasn't just because of how close he and Poppy were. The wizard had been missing quite a few times as of late and many of his absences were still unexplained. While he didn't like the type of of person who would commit such heinous acts, her gut told her that there was something he was hiding. Minerva just hoped that Poppy wasn't caught in the crossfire when the mystery surrounding Mr Mikail Lutrov was finally revealed.

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore was having trouble staying focused while he watched his sixth year Gryffindors attempt to Transfigure their eyebrows to a different colour. It bothered him greatly that his life was suddenly in such chaotic turmoil. He also knew that, while he had the tendency of letting his mind wander from the present, he never allowed himself to become distracted while teaching. After today, he could no longer make that claim.<p>

The letter he received this morning was still haunting him. He had yet to open it, he didn't need read it in order to know who it was from, or what it was about; the black seal of Azkaban Prison provided all the information he needed. There was only one kind of letter that came from that place and it was a letter he'd been waiting to receive for some years now.

He'd read it later today, maybe. He certainly didn't have the time at the moment, nor the energy to deal with the dark memories that came flooding back with the news of his father's passing. The Ministry had been hard enough to deal with over the last weekend, keeping him busy with war hearings consisting of nothing but arguing with the Minister and the other war officials. It had alternated between asking him for advice, then badgering him about _when_ he would be joining the war; and now he had to deal with a wide-scale investigation involving the overall lockdownof Hogwarts, along with the death of his father.

Albus was absolutely exhausted, having only slept for a few hours over the past three days, and last night had especially been another hellish night to add to his list- though he had no doubt that Galatea had suffered far worse than he in the last twenty-four hours. From her somewhat graphic description of the scene she had found, stating that the cats had been tortured was a vast understatement. The blood and the revolting disfiguration of no less than six cats indicated the animals had been a part of a sadistic experiment. It made him shudder just thinking about it, even more so when his mind immediately imagined one of those cats being Minerva in her Animagus form. While he was confident in her abilities, Albus couldn't stop thinking about the danger his protegee was now in. Even the most skilled witches and wizards made errors, and it only took one for a life to end.

Thinking about the consequences that would arise from her death terrified him. He _hated_ how selfish he felt his perspective was, but it was the truth; Minerva was his means of escaping the responsibility he felt had. He should have seen what Gellert was becoming even before _it_ happened. The chaotic three-way duel that resulted in his sister's death. If he had just opened his eyes to the deception and realised that Gellert was only toying with his affections before that fateful day, then maybe- _just_ maybe -Arianna would still be alive and Albus would have defeated Grindelwald and avoided this mess all together.

Yet, like the fool he was, Albus had let Gellert escape without consequence, and continued to let him even when he could predict the war years before it had even started. He would have had a better chance back then, before Gellert seized the Elder Wand, but he had been too afraid to confront the man he once called 'friend'. Albus Dumbledore, the _great _wizard who braved the Dragon Cliffs of Albania to discover twelve uses of Dragon's Blood and spent so many days trouncing death with Nicholas Flamel while experimenting, was _afraid _of facing one man because he possibly knew who really killed Arianna Dumbledore on that fateful night.

That was the real reason Albus refused to face him, why let Gellert continue slaughtering thousands of innocents unopposed. Albus feared that he, or perhaps even Aberforth, had unintentionally murdered their own sister and he would do everything in his power to spare himself that knowledge - even if it meant subtly directing a young witch into doing the job for him.

In the moment Miss McGonagall displayed her raw potential and continued to show that she was every bit his equal, Albus had sought to mould her into a witch that complete the job he refused to do. No matter how fond of her he became, he had every intention of making sure she succeeded.

Hearing a bit of commotion erupt across the room, Albus withdrew from his dazed thoughts and recognized the cause. Poppy Pomfrey had managed to transfigure _both_ her eyebrows to a bright teal. He surmised that it wasn't completely intentional on account of how wide her eyes were, but it was nevertheless very impressive.

"Well done, Miss Pomfrey! Ten points to Gryffindor, that was marvelous," Albus praised, directing his voice to the rest of the class. "We're finished for the evening, please try to change your eyebrows back to their original colour as we have practiced. If you are having difficulties, myself, or one of your classmates can assist you. And remember, your essays are due next Monday."

He watched as most of his students change their own brows back on their former colour; Miss McGonagall was aiding Mr Seymour before he could set fire to his hair, and quite surprisingly, Miss Pomfrey was allowing Mr Lutrov to undo her own transformation. He was fairly certain that he caught faint blush on their cheeks when Miss Pomfrey turned around to thank him, as well. It came as no real surprise to Albus, he'd seen the attraction building for over a month, but what did baffle him was how they managed to put aside their worries and let their hearts talk instead. It almost reminded him of-

_No. Their affection is mutual and genuine. __**He**__ was not genuine. __**He**__ used me for his own selfish reasons. __**He**__ felt nothing in return._

Albus shook his head, clearing his thoughts once more and took one last glance around the room to be sure he hadn't missed someone in dire need of his assistance. The feeling that he was forgetting something lingered and despite not seeing anyone in need of his help he could not remember what it might-

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the graceful movement of a lithe witch beginning to stride out his classroom. He blinked twice, quite certain that his lack of sleep was affecting him, only to be astonished that it was none other than Minerva McGonagall. After berating himself for such blatant ogling, he couldn't help but wonder when her feline form had integrated so eloquently with her human walk.

And then it hit him.

_Cat - Animagus - Animagus Studies - Ministry meeting on Wednesday... _He grimaced as his hand touched the letter on his desk_ ...and I'll be gone today as well, it seems. Even in death, father has horrendous timing._

"Miss McGonagall?" her radiant green eyes connected with his in reply, "could you stay for a moment? I would like to speak with you."

Minerva cast a quick glance at Miss Pomfrey and Mr Lutrov as they left the room together as she retraced her steps inside the classroom and closer to him. "Of course, Sir."

Albus casted a simple Silencing Charm with a wave of his hand.

"I was curious if you planned on attending Animagus Studies this week."

"Yes, of course - as always, Professor," she answered hesitantly. He caught a curious gleam in her eye and realised that she had correctly deduced the reason he would be asking _her_ such a question was because he had a request.

"I was wondering if it would be too much trouble to ask you to supervise the four apprentices this week? I have been called away on short notice yet again and I will be away for every lesson this week." Albus held her gaze, noting absently how transfixed her eyes became when she was intrigued; like her animagus. "I realise I have been absent far too many times this year and with Mr Foxington and Miss Hopper nearing the final stage, I feel it would be unfair if I vanished for a week without leaving a replacement. I would ask Professor Merrythought, but I'm sure you realise with the investigation underway, she has her hands tied and I can't think of anyone more qualified than you."

She hid her enthusiasm well, though she did flash a smile of gratitude.

"Sir, I think you know I can't possibly refuse. I very much enjoy helping them in their journey, just as you helped me through mine." Despite the light topic, Minerva's smile faded as stood at his side with a sincere expression. For a moment, Albus foolishly wondered if he she could read his mind.

"Is there anything else I can do to help you, Sir? You just seem distracted today. I can tell that the Ministry has been a bore to you these past few days and," she paused as her hand gripped the corner wooden desk, "I cannot imagine how difficult they've been for you today."

Her sixth sense and genuine concern for him never ceased to catch him off guard. No matter how much danger she was in, how much chaos surrounded the school, or how much the time-turner was weighing her down, Minerva always managed to be as perceptive of him as he knew he was of her.

Albus cleared his throat. "As difficult as it may be to deal with the Ministry, these are dark times for everyone."

His answer clearly didn't satisfy her. "You'd tell me if there was something I could do for you, wouldn't you, Professor?"

"I would," he began, pausing as her eyes sparkled, "but only if you would tell me what I can do for you."

It took a moment for his words to really sink in, but when they did, they both laughed. Just seeing her smile warmed his heart.

"Well then we're stuck, aren't we, Professor?"

"I dare say we are, my dear." Albus pointed two fingers at his sweet bowl and Summoned two sherbet lemons, one for himself, and one for his protegee. Their delectable, sweet taste seemed to dull the stress of the world for a brief second, but as always, it never vanished it. He savoured the sweet for moment longer, before turning back to his student.

"Truly, I am touched by your concern, Minerva. It's very refreshing to be reminded of the good in people." Albus squeezed her hand, but didn't let go just yet. "I think the best thing you could do right now, is stop using your Animagus ability and only use the Time-Turner only when you absolutely need to, as it is not just your health at risk any more. I've been told that the Ministry did not explain in full detail of the revolting circumstances which the cats were found in." His mind conjured a disturbing mental image of a bloodied silver tabby, enough to make him nauseous as he fought to control his voice. "Minerva, I don't want that happening to you."

The instant her green eyes rose from his hand and connected with his gaze, Albus caught a glimpse of_ everything_ she was hiding underneath that mask of hers. He found himself looking at the mirror image of his conscious. All of her fears, worries, anger and responsibilities, he could relate to. She was just as overwhelmed as he was.

"Don't worry about me, Professor, I won't let that happen."

_But the future is such a very hard thing to predict, my dear, and that's why I do worry. You have that knack of being everywhere that danger strikes..._

Feeling the warmth of her hand beginning to escape his as she turned to leave the classroom, Albus instinctively tightened his grasp around her wrist. He wasn't quite ready to let her leave, after all, they had an agreement.

"And what about you?" Albus asked quietly. "What would help you, my dear?"

Minerva didn't turn around. She stayed frozen like a statue, leaving him to study her long silky dark hair twirled in plaits. He shifted his grip slightly when he thought he felt his hand begin to tremble.

"Minerva?"

The witch continued to deny him the vision of her face and the ability read what she was feeling. She had the upper hand this way.

"The impossible, it seems," Minerva murmured in such a definitive tone that successfully conveyed her desire to end the conversation. Her reply troubled him, but despite his yearning to understand her answer, Albus chose to respect her privacy and release her.

Rarely did he ever feel the need to go beyond the boundaries to discover what was troubling a student, but Albus was realising more and more that Minerva had somehow becoming the exception to everything. Albus had felt driven to help her before, however this time it was not out of his duty as her teacher, but rather his heart, because he felt responsible.

**November 25th, 1942:**

The moonlight shone through the windows as the candles slowly dimmed and the cold winter air settled around them, but neither witch felt it. They were nestled on the settee together, warm, comfortable, and- Helena hoped for her partner's sake -taking solace in each other's embrace. However, with Unforgivables being used in Hogwarts, she was quite certain that wasn't the case, especially since Galatea wasn't sleeping. She was too worried to sleep, her mind constantly thinking about about Minerva, Malcom, and seemingly everyone currently residing in Hogwarts; and when Galatea wasn't sleeping, neither was Helena.

The matron's fingers gently brushed the side of her partner's neck as she rested on Galatea's body, her head tucked under her chin, listening to the crackling fire and wishing there was something she could do to take Galatea's worries away- even if just for a moment. Earlier they had talked about their day's events and were open to one another about their concerns, but now that had passed and silence had fallen upon them.

"_Càit air buidhe dhut, gaol_ [Where are you, love]?" Helena whispered.

Galatea glanced down at her, her crystal eyes unguarded, betraying all the worry and pain inside her soul, before looking away once more. The well known ache of helplessness gripped Helena's heart. Being unable to heal a mind and soul as well as a body was one of the many curses that came with being a healer, and before she met Galatea it was bearable. But since then it's torn her apart.

_Will there ever be an end to your suffering?_

Helena knew the answer to that question, and the answer always lurked in her thoughts. There were days that she cursed the Gods that she discovered it, as facing the future might be easier. In her mind, there was a very dark cloud ahead, although her partner might see it a little differently, but that was only because she had accepted it long ago. Forty-three years, to be exact.

"Minerva's going to be okay, _m'eudail_ [my dear]. She will survive this, we know that."

Galatea inhaled deeply. "_Tha diofar sam bith eadar a' fuireach beò, is __**beò air**_ [There is a difference between surviving, and_ living_]..."

The matron steeled herself upon realising the full meaning behind her words. _"Ceart..._ Yes, that is true, but she is powerful, smart, and determined," she kissed her partner sweetly on the temple, "_chaidh i ri thu _[just like you]. _Thig i air a ciall-sheunaidh, ge be air bith mar a bhios_ [She'll find her way, no matter what happens]."

Helena wrapped her arms around Galatea a little tighter, and was rewarded when her partner pulled her close to bury her head in her shoulder. She didn't reply, she didn't have to; Helena knew of the sombre, despondent thoughts that plagued her helpless ex-Auror's mind, who wanted more than anything to just simply keep the ones she loved safe.

**November 26th, 1942:**

"Minerva McGonagall, it is two in the morning! Put that blasted paper aside and get some sleep!" Poppy hissed as she marched towards her sister in the Gryffindor common room. It was the third time in a row that she had woken up in the middle of the night to find Minerva still awake. Apparently she felt the need to continue working on her Transfiguration research paper that was no doubt twice as long as it needed to be.

"Believe me, Poppy, I tried and I can't, so I decided to make use of the time and do something- also before you ask, no, I didn't have another nightmare." Minerva dropped her quill, rubbed her eyes, and then sighed.

"So what is it, then?" Poppy leaned against the wall near her sister.

"Just pick something, Poppy, because I sure as hell don't know! It could be one thing, anything, or nothing at all... Merlin, I just don't bloody know any more." The dark haired witch Summoned her teacup and took a sip. She looked so worn out. "The Untergang is still out to kill me, _supposedly _all because of some dead myth that the sirens _supposedly _made! We have a dangerous monster that Salazar Slytherin- one of my ancestors -_supposedly_ locked away a thousand years ago, but which is now lurking, about to strike again. Both Galatea and Helena have had near death encounters, Helena being the worst and _supposedly _I did everything I could, but in the end she could have very well died trying to keep me safe! The war has killed over a million people and yet the Minister, the Nightingales, and everyone else, believes that I- _supposedly_ -can make a difference, even though I'm not even in my seventh year yet!

"On top of it all, my màthair will eventually become insane because of a Gods' forsaken curse that _supposedly_ Rowena- Bloody -Ravenclaw created because she wanted to have her first-born to be female and because Athena dabbled in the Dark Arts! And then _you_ went behind my back, told Helena and Galatea about a simple nightmare, getting them all worried- and lately you've been unusually attached and tolerant of Mikail Lutrov, but refuse to say anything about it as if it's completely normal! Now somebody has killed a bunch of cats, _supposedly_ for the sake of experimenting with Dark magic; Oscar is still missing and Gusta's distraught; Lucretia Black quite possibly has been Imperiused and forced to do it, but has no recollection of whether she did or not, all of which means I can't use my Animagus! _Take - your - pick_!"

If Poppy hadn't known Minerva for most of her life, she would have been downright terrified at the scathing outburst. In all honestly, she had predicted something of this sort to happen and was certainly glad she'd cast a Silencing charm before hounding her sister.

"You forgot about the Time-Turner affecting you more than usual this year," Poppy added calmly. She earned an intense glare for her comment, but ignored it. "Do you feel any better now?"

Minerva's shoulders sank as her anger receded. "Maybe... not really. There's so much to do, so little time, so many things to worry about...I feel like I'm drowning, barely keeping my head above water."

"Well you don't have to face this alone, love. I wish you'd let us help carry your burdens, we can see it eating away at you- but you won't, you're too stubborn." Poppy sighed, closing her eyes as she listened to the sounds of the slowly dying fire and collected her thoughts. "I'm sorry that I went behind your back, but you had me so scared. Watching you struggle, whimpering in pain, and unable to wake up, it..." she shook her head. "Min, you haven't been in the right mindset since you talked with your mum and, as you said, your life is at risk. So please, tell me honestly, wouldn't you have done the same?"

Minerva narrowed her eyes but didn't say anything, and Poppy assumed it was as close to a 'yes' as she was going to get.

"Deep down, Min, you're angry at your mother, at Tradisi, the Untergang, Grindelwald, the Monster- and maybe even a little cross with yourself."

"You're right," Minerva admitted quietly. "I can't fault you for it - this time. Don't do it again, though."

"I'll promise, but only if you follow my medical advice for now on this year- starting with taking this sleeping draught." Poppy Summoned a small blue vial and forced it into Minerva's hand.

"Fine, I'd rather it be you than Helena, especially now..."

"Now?"

"Ah, I didn't tell you, did I?" A soft smile appeared on Minerva's face before she drank the potion.

"Tell me what?"

The dark haired witch capped the vial, seemingly deep in thought as she turned it over and over. She blinked a few times. "Sorry, what was I saying?"

"Don't play that game, Min! You were going to tell me why you'd rather-" Poppy caught Minerva yawning, and yawned herself. "Oh never mind, you can tell me in the morning."

* * *

><p><strong>Next time: A past floo conversation and a particular ghost causes trouble...<strong>

**~LinK**


	47. Spiralem, part I

**Another day in this carnival of souls**

**Another night settles in as quickly as it goes**

**The memories are shadows; ink on the page**

**And I can't seem to find my way home**

~Far From Home by Five Finger Death Punch

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 39 - Spiralem, part I<strong>

**November 26th, 1942 (continued):**

Unknown to either of her sisters as they crawled back to bed in the middle of the night, Rolanda was wide awake. She heard Minerva mumble something about a potion being highly effective, before she finally fell asleep; but instead of being concerned about both of them being awake at this hour, Rolanda was plagued with worries about her mother was planning to do. She hadn't told anyone about the letter Professor Merrythought managed to secretly place in her Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook yesterday- the letter she held clutched to her heart at this very moment.

Her mother had been brief, but the message did not need a long explanation. Adrian Hooch's murderer had finally been found. Her mother didn't specify who the murderer was, no doubt out of concern for Rolanda, but she did mention that the killer had been located. He was residing deep inside Soviet territory and had connections with the Untergang. That bit of information itself was unnerving, however, what was making her feel worse was that the letter included thinly veiled hints that her mother and Uncle Peter had every intention of hunting the murderer down.

Rolanda didn't know what to do, her thoughts were all over the place. She wanted to fly around Hogwarts and perform some of the most reckless stunts she'd been saving for just these kinds of moments; and then Floo home and argue with her mother fiercely. She wanted ask her to wait until the war was over, or at least until she graduated Hogwarts, so she could be with her family as they sought out the murderer. However, thanks to the various bastards causing trouble at Hogwarts, neither were possible.

Her team would've had Quidditch practice this evening too. That would have helped tremendously to clear her head and given her something else to think about, if only for a while. She needed an escape, but there was no way she could fly on her broom with the Ministry hanging around.

_I'll have to settle for running around the grounds before breakfast..._

Rolanda sighed and continued to toss and turn through the night, listening to the clock tick as the hours passed. She had almost nodded off when Augusta suddenly began to snore. It wasn't very loud, but it was irritating enough to keep her awake. The poor girl's allergies were bothering her and constantly missing Oscar was not helping the problem. Already agitated, the hawk-eyed witch grabbed her wand, _Silenced_ Augusta, and snuggled back into the covers. Reveling in the now silent room, she might have dozed off once more if the mirror on Minerva's bedside table hadn't started glowing.

For a second, she almost allowed herself to ignore it; however she knew Professor Merrythought wouldn't call unless it was urgent, and with Minerva's lack of sleep as of late, she decided to answer it herself. Begrudgingly, Rolanda heaved herself out of bed, snatched the device, then tricked the charm on the mirror by gently pressing the reflective glass against one of Minerva's limp fingers. She managed to cast another _Silencing Charm_ just before the professor could utter her surprise.

"Miss Hooch?"

"Pardon me, Professor, but Minerva's had a bit of a rough night and I don't wish her to wake unnecessarily. Can _I_ be of assistance, though?"

"Ah, I see..." Professor Merrythought's thin brows furrowed as she leaned away from the mirror to mutter something to whoever was there with her. Rolanda caught a glimpse of Valeria Myriadd's portrait and concluded that the she must be near the Gryffindor Tower Reading Room.

"Unfortunately, this matter requires her presence. Please wake her and ask her to meet the Minister and I in the Gryffindor Reading Room as soon as possible. The quicker, and quieter the better - I do not want anyone else waking up."

"Of course, Professor."

"Also, Miss Hooch, if you have any further questions regarding the 'family matter'- shall we call it? Or if you simply need to talk, then you are more than welcome to contact me."

Rolanda nodded her thanks, but could not meet the elder witch's eyes. "Thank you, Professor. I'll wake Minerva up now." She deactivated the mirror without another word and proceeded to shake Minerva gently while whispering her name.

"Mmm, what 'tis it?" the dark haired witch mumbled into her pillow.

"Professor Merrythought requested to see you, she's with the Minister."

Minerva's eyes snapped open as she sat up and strained to see the time. "What the hell do they want at this hour?" she whispered as she rolled herself out of bed. "It's hardly five in the bloody morning..."

Rolanda watched as Minerva pulled on her woolen slippers and grabbed her dressing gown while mumbling to herself, "Untergang's possible - no, no, Galatea would nae, too early. It'd be worrisome. The Minister wouldn't be there anyway... Really must be urgent then, although, why tell me then?"

"Min?"

"Hmm?" Minerva raised a brow as she tied the gown around her lithe figure. Mico had hopped off the bed and was now rubbing against her ankles as Rolanda smirked.

"Dear, you're talking to yourself, and you're not making much sense either. Merrythought's in the Reading Room and she asked specifically for you to try not to wake anyone else."

The dark haired witch closed her eyes as she took a deep breath, then bobbed her head. It was a little concerning when Minerva swayed as she stood, but her balance was regained when she started walking towards the door.

Quite thankful that Minerva hadn't noticed the letter lying on her bed, Rolanda summoned the parchment and stashed it in her secret box. She mulled over Merrythought's words as she curled back under the warm covers. Maybe someday she would take up the offer, but for now, she just wasn't ready.

* * *

><p>Minerva's mind was in a haze, her eyelids were heavy and she felt a little dizzy, enough that she nearly tripped over Mico as he followed her down the staircase.<p>

_Damn Poppy, I should have never let her give me that potion. I feel like I'm swimming._

She paused for a moment, concentrating on breathing in and out and attempting to clear her head of fatigue. The haze seemed to cling to her, shroud her in a blanket and weigh her down. If she had managed to sleep for another hour, this problem would probably not exist, but thankfully it seemed that the more time she spent walking and forcing her eyes to stay open, the more she felt the potion's effects ebb away. Had she been in the right state of mind, she probably would have asked why Rolanda was awake, but her thoughts were so preoccupied with wondering why both Galatea and the _Minister_ needed to speak with her this early in the morning that she didn't give it a second thought.

The instant Valeria Myriadd's portrait let her inside, her gaze connected with Galatea's pale blue orbs. The elder witch appeared just as tired as Minerva felt- and as her gaze shifted to the other witch in the room -she noticed that Evangeline did as well.

"My apologies for having to wake you so early, Miss McGonagall," the Minister spoke with a slower than usual cadence, "but I've been meaning to speak with you for some time. "

It was quite transparent that this was solely about the investigation, and Minerva- already far too tired to deal with Evangeline -could not hold back her irritation. "Might I ask, _why_ we are required to have this conversation at five in the morning?"

"'Tis my doing, I am afraid," Galatea interrupted, her brogue thick with fatigue. "I dinnae want to get'cha involved - ye're at enough risk already. It's been five days though and we need answers sooner rather than later, so there's little choice in the matter. Questioning you here at this hour reduces the risk for you."

Minerva sighed as she watched Mico playing with a discarded bookmark, blissfully content and unaware of the events swirling around his mistress.

"Very well, I shall answer your questions to the best of my ability."

"There, you see, Galatea? Even at this hour, she has enough sense to be reasonable," the Minister quipped, no doubt continuing a previous argument between the pair.

"At least she can be mildly tolerable without her morning tea," Galatea replied dryly, causing the tension in the air to spike.

"Hmph," Evangeline huffed, directing her attention to Minerva. "Miss McGonagall, over the past weeks, have you noticed any Slytherins that seem to be observing you, excessively?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And did Lucretia Black warn you of this occurrence before you noticed? Or perhaps during?"

"During."

"Did she mention her housemates' motive for this, or anything else of use?" Galatea queried this time.

Minerva waited a moment to gather her thoughts before answering, "Lucretia stated that she was uncertain about their motive, however, she did know it was unrelated to the monster roaming the castle and she did reveal that if she was caught speaking to me about this information, then there would be consequences."

"That explains how she knew she'd been a target," the professor narrowed her eyes as she mulled over this bit of information.

"Hmm, maybe, but I'm curious," Evangeline crossed her arms, looking rather inquisitive, "why would Miss Black even bother risking informing you if she knew what would happen if she was caught?"

"I believe she might not have intended to, at first," Minerva elaborated, just before Mico jumped onto the shelves, knocking over a few books. Rolling her eyes, she spelled the rascal back onto the floor. "Before Lucretia warned me, she asked me to inform the other Gryffindor Prefects about the missing cats, in the hopes that, through a combined effort, we could find them and keep them and their owners from becoming victims of the Monster as they searched."

Galatea nodded as if the pieces began to fit, however the Minister seemed increasingly suspicious and began to pace around the room. "Aside from your professors and the students of your Animagus Studies class, just how many other people know about your Animagus ability?"

"Very few, and they're all people I trust explicitly."

"Does that include Mr Lutrov?"

"No, Minister."

"Do you think it's remotely possible for anyone else at Hogwarts to know about your gift?"

Minerva's eyes hardened, she didn't like where this was headed. "Since I am, by all accounts, the youngest Animagus in over two centuries I believe that if anyone else did know it would be a regular topic of discussion."

"So there is _absolutely_ no possible way that Miss Black might-"

"Miss McGonagall has answered your question, Evangeline, move on to the next one."

The Minister seemed to not hear Galatea's warning. "It _is_ possible that she read the Animagus archives before I sealed them a year ago."

The continued assumption of Lucretia's guilt made Minerva's hackles rise. She opened her mouth to defend Lucretia, but her mentor fired first.

"_They,_" Galatea ground out, sounding as if it was her Animagus growling instead, "it is_ 'they', _Minister, not _'she'_! I will not have you placing fault upon Miss Black when she has yet to be found guilty! You and those in your party are the _only _ones convinced that Miss Black committed such an act without the influence of an Imperius curse."

"I would rather stop _her_, before she has the chance to strike again Galatea."

"Is it so hard for you to believe that she _might_ be innocent?"

Evangeline scoffed "Well, she_ is _a Black."

"Not every child takes after their parents, Evangeline. I would have thought you of all people would understand that, especially with your family's past," the professor paused poignantly, before coldly stating, "and your son, as of late."

Evangeline's lip curled. "And I would have thought that with the Untergang wanting Miss McGonagall so badly, along with all the _'other factors'_ pertaining to your dear Isobel that you wouldn't be so keen in believing Miss Black is innocent!" After a long hard stare between the two of them, Minerva cleared her throat and Evangeline tore away. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, given your-"

"Miss McGonagall," the professor's interrupted, "have you witnessed any other suspicious behavior which may be of value to this investigation?"

Minerva didn't have to look at her to understand where Galatea wanted to direct the conversation, and as luck would have it, she had just a little more to say than the Professor had in mind.

"After Lucretia and I left for our respective Houses that evening, I believe I saw Eileen Prince with two of the missing cats before I turned the corner. When I turned to double check, though, they were gone."

It was a good thing Evangeline's back was facing Galatea at that moment, for the professor's face broke into a short-lived wry grin.

"Eileen Prince?" The Minister whirled to face Galatea once more- whose smile had already been replaced by her stern mask. "Isn't she the young Slytherin that was found drugged, _Cruciated_, and quite possibly _Imperiused_?"

"Aye, she is; and since she was with the missing felines, it only confirms my theory. You should have listened to me when the first incident happened, Minister, we might have prevented this whole mess to begin with."

"There was no indication that the Killing Curse would be used next!" Evangeline insisted, though she didn't sound very convinced.

"They used the two other Unforgivables on that girl!" the raw ire in Galatea's tone strengthened as she stepped forward. "What other _'indication'_ would you have needed?"

"It could have been- and still could be -the Untergang!"

Minerva stopped herself as her hand reached for her wand. Watching the two witches arguing in each other's faces with such ferocity was setting her on edge. It was clear that both of them knew they held each a power which rivaled the other's and were both striving to prove which was dominant. Galatea held raw magical talent and her skill in dueling was profound, but while Evangeline was no match for the ex-Auror in that field, she held political sway that was well beyond Galatea's purview. It was almost frightening to see how well they could keep each other in check, just as easily as they could tear each other apart.

Minerva silently prayed to never encounter such a predicament, and by feeling a soft pressure behind her calves, she realised that she wasn't the only one feeling weary. Mico had abandoned his assault on the bookmark to watch the scene unfold safely behind his Mistress.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" the elder witch shouted. "Stop ignoring the elephant in the room and just admit it! You have been relying on my forces to solve the problems at Hogwarts when you should be using your own."

"Yes, fine! All right! I admit it! Criticise me all you want, Galatea, but if you dare stir up trouble while I have a war of this magnitude to win, then I will see to it that you are silenced!"

Minerva's hand twitched again as she fought the sharp impulse to defend her mentor. It was simply not her place to interfere.

"Rest assured, I have no plans to do so, _Minister,_" Galatea's voice dipped dangerously low with each word sounding as if it were laced with toxin, "I just wanted to hear you admit it, so that if any of _my_ Nightingales are killed doing_ your _job, their deaths will forever be accountable to you, and you alone - and don't think I will _ever_ let you forget it."

The Minister's fury flickered for a moment as very quick flash of fear swirled in her eyes, and Minerva wondered absently if Evangeline might actually care about the people she was damning.

Galatea glanced at Minerva, before speaking to Evangeline in a more civil manner. "If you have no further questions for Miss McGonagall, I would like to speak with her privately."

"No, that will be all. We shall further discuss the investigation later." Evangeline held Galatea's stare for a minute longer with a look of pure vitriol in her eyes, before she left. As the portrait door closed behind her, the elder witch exhaled her frustration and the lines on her face relaxed along with her composure.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Minerva raised a brow, she definitely hadn't expected those words from her mentor. "For what?"

"When you mentioned Eileen Prince, it gave me the window of opportunity to not only argue for Lucretia's defence, but also settle an old score of mine. 'Twas a trifle thing, I know, but I have grown very weary of her taking credit for what my forces are doing."

Minerva felt a big furry paw press against her leg and glanced down to see Mico signaling his wished to be held.

"I can understand that," she said as she pulled Mico off the ground and moved more to Galatea's side, "especially since she's leaving you all out to dry while you're protecting Britain on the homefront. I think you have every right to be infuriated."

"I am glad you can to see that perspective. During these dark times, the general public's need for a person to lead them through it all tends to be so great that they reject anything that could be used to view their leader in a negative light."

Minerva nodded, then looked at her mentor seriously. "I know the Minister isn't exactly a saint, but does she usually hand out threats like that?"

"No, she does not. I cannot say that I blame her though, I _did_ force her into admitting information that could cause quite a scandal, and with the war on..." the elder witch narrowed her eyes, "actually I am rather surprised I got her to admit it at all with everything at stake."

That statement made Minerva nervous. Not being able to see an opponent's strategy always made her nervous, but coupling that notion with the Minister was even more concerning.

"Does she really have the ability to keep you silent?"

"I know she does." Her mentor's monotone voice did nothing to reassure her.

Thankfully, Galatea seemed to want to change topics as her pale eyes finally met Minerva gaze.

"Why did you not tell me about seeing Eileen Prince that day?"

"Because I feared I'd have to explain more than I wanted to and reveal Lucretia. Besides, since I was using the Time-Turner, I wouldn't be surprised if someone thought I'd simply imagined it."

"Mmm, I see. Next time something of that significance occurs, alert me. I have seen many strange things in my time and have learned long ago not to dismiss anything until it is proven false." Galatea smiled softly, which widened further when Mico began to purr. She extended her hand and scratched the tabby's ears, before she grew serious again. "You have not used your Animagus this week, have you?"

"No, I haven't. I won't until the investigation is over with."

"Good. I want you to be extra cautious this weekend as I will be away at Headquarters. You will be watched more so than usual."

"By _Broc_, I assume?"

"Unfortunately no, not for the majority of the time, at least. But he will be at Hogwarts, so if- and Gods' forbid -that something does happen, send your Patronus to him and Professor Dumbledore."

Minerva nodded and opened her mouth to reply, but the reading room's portrait chimed instead, "Professor Merrythought, a student has left his dormitory. He'll be down shortly."

"Thank you, Mr Spheer," Galatea replied, leading Minerva out into the common room as they quickly said their farewells. Thankfully, her mentor was out of sight when Minerva saw the tawny-eyed wizard who was awake and fully dressed for the day.

"Minerva?" Mikail asked in surprise. "Vhat are you doing awake?"

"I was going to ask you the same question."

Mikail rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that look. Surely I appear no more suspicious than you do right now."

The witch pursed her lips, he did have a point. "Fair enough. I'll see you at breakfast, Mikail."

"Before I forget; I vas thinking, vith the Ministry everywhere, I thought it might be best to conduct our 'business' in my dormitory instead of the Room of Requirement. It shouldn't take too long and my dorm mates vill be out for most of the day. It's perfect."

A smile touched her lips at the thought of yet another piece of her memories being uncovered, and with Galatea gone for the weekend, there was even less chance that they would be discovered. Yes, it was perfect.

**November 27th, 1942:**

"A placid evening, is it not, Miss McGonagall?"

Hearing her Transfiguration Professor's voice caused her to smile as a warm sensation radiated from her chest.

"It is indeed, Professor." Minerva closed her book and turned to face him as he came closer. He sat down beside her on the stone and she noticed how the rapidly falling sun made his auburn hair shine, but also revealed the dark circles under his eyes. "How have you been this week, Sir?"

"Busy, as I'm sure you've noticed. It occurred to me this morning that I had yet to convey how grateful I am of you supervising Animagus Studies this week. I appreciated the notes you left me about the students' progress and the questions they had. I shall make sure to address them next Monday."

His eyes twinkled and Minerva found herself unable to hide the smile on her face. "I hoped they would be. It was an enjoyable experience and they gave me no trouble, but I believe they would like their Professor back, and I have to agree with them."

"From what I've heard, you were an excellent teacher nonetheless - even managed to help Mr Foxington discover his form! I'm certain that could not have been an easy task, he's been rather stubborn and too closed minded to comprehend the idea of manipulating his way through the dimensions of magic. I'll admit, I'm curious; how did you manage it?"

"Well, truthfully, he seemed much more willing than he had in the past. I explained the dimensions of magic, and how even the simplest of spells weave through them; then I talked about the multiple dimensions that Animagi weave through while transforming." She frowned as her thoughts veered. "Sir, I didn't include this in my notes, but I'm concerned that he is letting his fear drive him to become an Animagus."

Professor Dumbledore hummed with thought, stroking his beard. "I wish that it wasn't the case, but I believe you may be right. The world is not a safe place for a Muggle-born with the war- not to mention the monster," he cleared his throat. "You have quite the knack for teaching, you know? I've observed how you often demonstrate various spells or theories in your classes, and I may have overheard how you help the children in Hogsmeade control their magic." A glaze fell over his eyes. "You would be a fine replacement."

A split second of fear buzzed in her mind. Maybe it was his sombre tone that caused it, but the way he spoke had startled her. _Replace? Why would he need to be replaced? He's not leaving... he can't leave. He said he wasn't going to-_

"If the opportunity should arise in the future, I mean," he added with a smile, one that Minerva had to tell told herself wasn't feigned. She was just imagining all the signs she had come to know so well when he wasn't telling the whole truth.

She couldn't believe that he would be serious in contemplating leaving Hogwarts, it didn't make sense. He had always refused to get involved in the war; and with the Untergang's ever threatening presence, and the Monster running about the castle unchecked, Hogwarts needed him.

_She_ needed him. But why?

_He's always been there. He's taught me for so many years and he knows me better than anyone else, treats me as an equal and, and we're friends, or close to it - I think. Maybe. Yes._

Minerva would never admit it, but her thoughts became flustered as she continued pondering such thoughts.

"I have a question, if you will," he spoke, looking off into the sunset rather than at Minerva. "Hypothetically speaking, if the war had not occurred and you were not under anyone's influence, would still wish to join the Aurors?"

The witch narrowed her eyes. Most of the time she could get a sense of what he was thinking and feeling, but she was having difficulties today. "Sir, isn't it by other people's influence that we discover ourselves?"

"A fair point, my dear. Allow me to rephrase, then; if you had the freedom to choose your career without fearing consequences from prior commitments, can you see yourself still compelled to join the Aurors; or might you be more invested in research, or perhaps teaching?"

Minerva followed her professor's gaze out to the brilliant orange horizon. She understood what he was asking, but it was something she could not answer on a whim as it required deep reflection. In a life free of expectations- where no one was depending on her to bring about change in an ever present war; where she wasn't trying to free herself from her mother's lies -what _would_ she do? What kind of person would she be? All the expectations and the strife she had to endure on a daily basis forced Minerva to conform to what others wanted in order to cope.

She supposed she would still be herself, maybe a bit more carefree with the ability to enjoy the pleasures of life like a 'normal' student her age would; or she would still be locked in her dormitory studying day and night. Probably a bit of both, but she had no doubt that she would still be a keen student of Transfiguration. Yet, there were always people commenting on her talents. She was a smart, witty, powerful, an excellent duellist, and the idea of hunting dark wizards would forever fuel her feline sense of adventure.

"In all honesty, I'm uncertain, Professor; although I do believe I would still lean towards the Aurors."

Minerva glanced at him as she waited for a reply and became a little apprehensive when his gaze didn't wane from the dissapearing sun. She decided to keep their conversation going in hopes of understanding what was troubling him. "Sir, if you would permit, might I ask the same question of you? If you could go back in time, have no commitments and no one holding you back; freedom to choose what you wanted in life, what would you have done?"

The only indication she received to acknowledge her question was his lips pursing as Professor Dumbledore stayed silent. She waited patiently just as he had, yet after five minutes passed she was about to accept his right to refuse to answer the question, but then he finally did speak.

"Something I would have regretted terribly," he muttered.

The hollowness of his voice struck Minerva deeply. It was apparent that he- like her -also had a troubled past, and that tentative link urged her heart to show him a measure of comfort as he had done for her time after time. Despite their already close proximity, she moved even closer to him and their shoulders brushed as she clasped her hand around his. They sat in silence for so many heartbeats, watching the sun continue to drop, each with their own thoughts occupying their minds.

Out of the corner of her eye, Minerva noticed Professor Dumbledore turn his head slightly, his sapphire eyes transfixed on her shoulder. Her breathing stilled as his hand moved- tentatively at first -to the object of interest resting just above her breast.

"You kept this."

She followed his gaze to the red ribbon tying off the end of her braided hair that he gently held in his fingers.

"Oh- yes, I have." Minerva silently thanked the Gods for the chilling winter air as she felt heat rising to her cheeks in embarrassment. She had to say something else, anything to keep her mind occupied and to control her absurd emotions. "It has been quite useful, I've transfigured it into various accessories over the years."

She bit her tongue to prevent herself from prattling on about how she never let it out of sight, of how it was miraculously spared when the stone statute chopped her hair off a year ago, and most of all revealing the times which it gave her an unusual strength when she needed it most. It was foolish, childish even, to think she could ever tell him any of that.

His twinkling sapphire eyes were still staring at her with an emotion she couldn't quite decipher. Fascination? Intrigue? It wasn't simple fondness, that she quickly decided. It was something deep down inside that was making her thoughts jumble and heart thump loudly.

"Professor Dumbledore!" a voice shouted from down the hall, snapping them both from their trance. Minerva immediately took a shaky breath and watching the Head Girl rushing towards them with a look of horror plastered on her face. "Professor, please come quickly! Madam Nurix is requesting to see you immediately!"

The wizard was already on his feet and making his way towards her. "Do you know what's happened?"

"It's Lucretia Black, Sir, she's gone mad!" camel

"How so?"

"I don't know, she was acting just fine before, then she started twitching and acting like she had the most terrible headache! She started whimpering and then screaming something about cats..."

To Minerva's disappointment, the professor and the Head Girl ran out of earshot before more was revealed.

_So much for a placid evening, _she thought bitterly.

As she turned to go, the air around her seemed to drop several degrees, and the torch flames turned blue. Minerva spun around with her wand drawn as she felt a haunting presence pass through her body. A woman with long hair, a slender waist, and look of haughty composure reformed in front of Minerva with her nose staring down at her. It was the Grey Lady.

"She has been Possessed."

"How do you know that?" Minerva asked, staring up at the woman with bewilderment. The Grey Lady was rarely seen around students even from her own house, and was the only ghost of Hogwarts who refused to speak.

The ghost blinked but did not reply as suddenly all the portraits of Hogwarts simultaneously began shouting instructions. "All students report to your Houses quickly and calmly. Prefects will take headcount!"

Throughout the hall, students everywhere immediately dropped what they were doing and began dashing off to their respective houses. Minerva would have continued questioning the ghost if it weren't for two first year Hufflepuffs, apparently running for their lives. She spread her arms out at the precise moment in order to catch them both and stop them in their tracks.

"Slow down you two!" she barked, releasing them. "The portraits said _'quickly and calmly'_, not race through the castle like a pack of wild dogs! Really now, there's no need for panic."

"Y-yes, Ma'am."

"We're sorry, ma'am."

Their fear was understandable, and Minerva couldn't help but feel guilty at scolding them so harshly, but order was necessary. "All right then," she said, allowing a light bit of sympathy to be conveyed in her voice, "off you go."

She watched the two of them walk briskly towards the Hufflepuff Basement before she spotted a wide-eyed Augusta coming her way, and mentally prepared herself.

"Min, do you know what's going on?"

Seeing as Augusta was already terrified, Minerva decided it would be best to not tell her the whole truth. "No, not really."

"You don't think it has anything to do with Oscar, do you? I swear I thought I saw him an hour ago, but..." Augusta looked away as she fought back tears.

Minerva placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "It's no use fretting over what we don't know yet. It might very well have nothing to do with him, we can only hope for the best."

_...Even if the best won't be good enough._

**November 28th, 1942:**

Yesterday evening passed without a word of what really happened to Lucretia Black. All that was known for sure was that the young woman had been transferred to St Mungo's, as those with authority refused to tell. Even Helena refused to disclose what had happened, although after some careful persuasion, she admitted it was something very serious and warned her to "stay out of it". Minerva kept in mind what the Grey Lady had said about Lucretia being possessed, but she didn't want to believe the ghost until she had confirmation herself.

Minerva had been keeping a closer eye on Mikail since their encounter previously, but as it turned out, she really didn't need too. The wizard had stayed close to Poppy for the remaining duration of the evening, even walking through the halls with her- although they both remained a little distant from the group at times. The staff appeared more on edge than usual- something that Minerva was sure was only partly caused by the increased Ministry presence.

So by the time Saturday finally rolled around, there were only a few people who were willing to exit their common rooms except for meals, most of whom were the Gryffindor boys. Thankfully this included all of Mikail's dorm-mates and not an hour after breakfast, the room was clear for their use.

"Are you sure about this?" Poppy queried Minerva for the umpteenth time this morning.

"Yes, Poppy, now please stop asking me that."

"I just..." the healer-in-training sighed. "Min, you could fall into a coma."

"Hopefully not," Mikail supplied, "I've done more research and I have a much clearer idea about vhat I vill be doing, and besides, this one is a short one. If I can do this, then ve shall not have much to vorry about in the future."

"Until we get to the seven day adaquel, at least," Minerva added derisively.

"Yes, vell, that is a given. Do you need me to go over the specifics about vhat is going to happen again? It's been a vhile."

"I don't think it would hurt."

"Vell the first part vill be a bit like last time, a bit of pressure, but-"

Poppy chortled. "Mikail, she was using a phrase."

"Ah, yes, of course," Mikail cleared his throat. "Right, so, I'm going to be entering your mind and running through your memory stream to find the precise adaquel that we're looking for. I'm going to first attempt to coax the suppressed parts back to the surface, then begin reconstructing your tampered memory back to its original form. After I have finished, I vill exit your mind, and precisely seven minutes later, you vill then fall into a deep sleep and begin relive the memory. I should varn you, though, vhile it vill only be temporary, it vill not be a pleasant seven minutes. It vill be something like a migraine and it vill hit you hard."

"Which means you should be either sitting or lying down before he casts the spell on you," added Poppy.

Minerva nodded as she sat down on Mikail's bed. "Anything else?"

"Just remember; this is your second adaquel. It vill be around October 1928, and you vill be three years old."

"I'm ready when you are."

Mikail took a deep breath, composing himself as he placed his fingers on her temples and whispered the spell. Just as before, Minerva felt her head being forced back the moment the spell left his lips, and a blinding light invaded her mind. It was more intense this time around, as was the pain, which gradually increased as she felt Mikail unravel the veil surrounding her memory and delicately restore it.

The moment both of their minds returned to the present, Minerva felt disorientated and extremely dizzy, as if she had spun around the room fifty times. She could hear Poppy and Mikail talking quietly, but their words seemed so far away she couldn't tell whether they were conversing with each other to towards her.

She felt Poppy taking hold of her hand as her headache returned with the strength of a migraine, but Minerva tugged away. Her body temperature repeatedly fluctuated unbearably from hot to cold every thirty seconds, causing her to become clammy all over and shake. Minerva tried to focus on something else in the room that would make the pounding in her head ease, but it was no use. A sharp pain in the front and back of her skull caused her to gasp. It was so overpowering.

Another flash of fire, then a burst of ice tormented her body and the pounding in her head wouldn't leave her alone. Minerva clutched her stomach, feeling the urge to vomit rise and fall every time her body temperature changed. The light hurt. She kept reminding herself that it was only temporary, that it would go away, but those seven minutes seemed to take a lifetime. Her eyes felt like they were rolling around in her head as her body fought each extreme until blackness_ finally_ fell over her...

_A loud boom reverberates in her ears as she wakes. It shakes the house and echoes through the valley, bouncing off the Highlands making it sound louder, closer. She doesn't need to hear the sound of the rain pelting the roof of the Manor; she knows exactly what is happening and it terrifies her. It has always terrified her._

_Even with the candle lit, she can't see much, except for when bright flashes occur, which is soon accompanied by a rumble from the sky above in an explosion of light and sound. Mother always told her that thunder occurs when the Gods were angry, and tonight it seemed that they were furious. She tries to find Gracie to cuddle with, but as she searches around her bed, she realises that the grey feline is probably hiding somewhere._

_Another boom rattles the Manor and she trembles in fear until it had passes. She needs to be with her mother and father, they always kept her safe. While she knows her mother would scold her for running in the house, for she really did try to behave, her little legs wanted to carry her through the house as quickly as they could. She jumps off her bed and bolts out the door, running down the hallway towards her parent's room. It surprises her to see a green light coming from under the door of the Floo room, so much so that she stops running and leans closer to listen in. She can hear her mother talking quietly to an unfamiliar woman with a very tart voice._

_"Tog dheth [Stop it]! I'm tired, I don't have the patience to deal with your malignant diatribe tonight. In case you haven't noticed, it is no small thunderstorm in Caithness and Minerva could wake at any moment."_

"_Yeh might care about what she knows, my dear Isobel, but __**I **__certainly do not."_

"_You should! You're involved in this just as much as I am, Mother!"_

_Minerva blinks, quite confused about why her own mother was calling this woman _'mother'_. Oddly though, she isn't the only one._

"_**Mother?**__ Ooh now that is a change. 'Twas that accidental, or- no, you meant that didn't yeh?" Minerva hears the strange woman chuckle and easily understands that it's not out of happiness. She's unsure what it was exactly, but the word 'wicked' comes to mind. Minerva waits a moment for her mother to answer, but she doesn't, and the other woman continues chiding. "My, my, I don't believe ye've called me that in-"_

"_Fifteen years, I am aware."_

"_And it's been, what, a two and a half since you drove your faol-màthaireill [wolf-mother] and that wretched healer away?"_

_Lightning flashes through the Manor's corridors and is quickly followed by a thunderclap so loud that it terrifies Minerva to her core. She forgets entirely about listening and rushes into the room._

_She finds her mother sitting on the floor near the fireplace, and rushes into her arms as fast as she possibly can. "Màmaidh [Mummy]!"_

"_Oof!" Her mother catches her, bracing an arm on the floor to prevent them from falling over. "A luaidh [My dear], it's just a bit of thunder."_

"_Cha [No]! 'S aognaidh [It's scary]!" Minerva whines, burying her head into her mother's stomach, which has become a little rounder in the past month._

_A shiver quite unrelated to the thunder runs down her spine as the witch in the fire lets out a cold laugh._

"_Yeh don't know what 'scary' is child."_

"_Foghnaidh siud dheth [this is enough], Mother!" Her mother yells as Minerva feels her shifting them around, so she can't see the face in the fire any more. She looks up at her mother, who looks down at her as she talks, "Minerva, the thunder isn't going to hurt you. You'll be alright, now go back to bed."_

_The thought of being alone while the storm rages on around them terrifies her. She shakes her head and cuddles closer._

"_Ma 's e ur toil e?" Minerva understands what her mother is asking, but she doesn't want to obey. Her mother repeats her plea in English, cupping her chin to be sure she understood, "Please? Your father is worn out and I'm busy-"_

"_Yes, yes; too busy to comfort yer child," the woman in the fire comments as several lightning strikes dance around the Manor._

"_As if you ever did!"_

_The thunder clap came before Minerva was ready for it. It's louder than all the others and jolts Minerva's nerves to their breaking point. She screams and wraps her arms even tighter around her mother's disappearing waist, burrowing as close as she can, she'd be safe there._

_She hears her mother sigh as she feels her gently rub her back and tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "All right, you can stay."_

"_Ye're really going to let her hear __**us**__ chat?"_

"_She won't remember it."_

_Minerva furrows her brows. Her mother's answer was confusing. She doesn't understand how that could be possible. "Chan eil mi [I won't]?"_

"_Shh, dear, let Màthair talk. You can ask questions later, okay?"_

"_But-"_

_Isobel's eyes flash with annoyance. "Young lady, if you want to stay here with me, then be silent. Do you understand?"_

_Another boom rattles the Manor. Not wanting to be alone, Minerva nods, nestling closer to her mother and doing as she has been told._

"_Going as far as to make sure your daughter won't remember conversations? Calling me 'mother'? Oh my, my, Izzy... have you begun to change?"_

_Whoever this woman is, Minerva quickly decides that she doesn't like her. She sounds like the wicked witch in the fairy tales Papa tells her._

"_Not as you think, not yet," her mother whispers, rubbing Minerva's back as another rumble rolls through the Manor. "Not as you have. That won't happen for a while."_

_Minerva tries to keep her thoughts on the conversation, rather than worrying about when the next scary noise was going to occur, but it was confusing to her and she gave up, letting their talk go on around her as she held onto her mother tightly._

_"Quite sure of that are we?" the other woman said._

_"Yes."_

"_You've been seeing-_" an natural pure silence falls over the scene for a moment, "_-haven't yeh?"_

_"And if I have?"_

_"I'd be careful if I were yeh. Your fr-_" and yet again all sound disappears, but then returns, "_-as safe as you both like to think."_

_"Because of you?" her mother's voice rose. It always makes Minerva want to hide when she did that._

_"Well... I'd be lying if I said no."_

_"Mother, what have you done?!"_

_"Never you mind-"_

_"I will mind! I demand that you tell me what you have done, or I __**will **__force it out of you if I must!"_

Then everything went dark. All words, thoughts, sensations were cut from Minerva's mind and she was floating in a tranquil state. It was as if she was floating between time and space, not knowing where she was or what she was doing, and with no strength or will to do anything different. How much time passed was uncertain, but when the memory came back, she heard the voice of the woman she knew as Tradisi who was speaking once more.

_"Well, well..." Minerva shivers at the woman's tone. She would rather hear her mother scolding her forever if it meant not having to hear this wicked witch again. "I can see it now. Yeh really __**have **__changed, Izzy. Sinium's death really had a profound effect on yeh, didn't it?"_

_Minerva felt herself being pulled closer and notices her mother's hands beginning to tremble._

"_Hmm," the woman hums, "but if that was true, then you wouldn't have abandoned Merrythought and that wretched healer as yeh did..."_

"_I had no other choice, you despicable hag- and you know why!"_

"_Oh yes, I do, but do __**you**__?"_

_Her mother doesn't reply to the woman directly. Instead, she moves her arm slightly and the green glow of the fire to fades, plunging both Minerva and her mother into darkness. At first, Minerva's unsure if she's allowed to speak again, so she stays quiet even as she feels her mother's arms once again wrapping around her. The dark is frightening, but being warm and snug in her mother's embrace is enough to make her feel safe._

_She hears Isobel's breathing hitch for a few moments before she inhales sharply. Her mother holds the breath inside her lungs and her body tenses for a while, before she exhales shakily. Minerva recognises that the woman in the fire has clearly upset her mother, but the reason why was not so obvious as their conversation was still confusing. She wants to stay in her mother's arms though, so she doesn't dare ask. Not even when she suspects that her mother is weeping._

_It's her mother that speaks first, and as she dozes, Minerva becomes more and more unsure who her mother is even talking to._

"_I know why... God, I knew why __**then**__, and I __**still**__ do... I won't later, though. I'll think that I do, but I won't. I will probably refuse to even acknowledge it." She feels her mother smoothing back her dark hair and the calming motion makes her eyes droop and forget about the now distant thunder. "You won't remember this, not for a while."_

"_Carson [Why]?" she whispered, realising that it was __**her**__ that her mother was addressing._

"_Because, it's for the best," her mother's voice cracked, "and when you __**do**__ remember this, Minerva, please don't tell- well, a very important, powerful witch. You'll know who I'm talking about when you finally remember, I'm quite certain."_

_Under the impression that her mother thinks she already knew this other witch, was very confusing for she simply didn't! Her mother wasn't making sense at all. She scrunches up her face and tries very hard to understand because she hates being confused, but it was pointless._

"_Màmag [mum], I don-"_

"_Please," Isobel kisses her forehead, then whispers something that makes everything fade: Light, sound, then finally touch._

She was drifting, somewhere between space and time, suspended for what could have been an eternity or barely even a second. She could feel nothing; no pain, no joy. Minerva believed she should have, at least, felt a small amount of panic, but it seemed as though even that was gone as well.

_**Tha-thump.**_

A sound finally reverberated from her chest and echoed in her mind.

_**Tha-thump. Tha-thump.**_

It repeated, over and over in a pattern she thought she should know, until she could hear herself breathing. A second later, all her senses slammed back into her like a Bludger. Her body suddenly had weight. She was laying on a bed - Mikail's bed if she recalled correctly, and she could hear the sound of footsteps tapping the wooden floors; could smell the fireplaces.

Her head still _throbbed._

Someone was sitting next to her and leaning closer...

Minerva's eyes opened and saw a hand reaching for her. Instinct took over. She grabbed the hand, and in a brilliant display of agility, managed to switch positions with the person, pinning them on the bed in the process and with her feet planted firmly on the ground.

"Min, let go! It's me, Poppy!"

She blinked once and her vision gained recognition with her mind. The figure on she was pinning had familiar russet coloured hair and hazel eyes - and that voice, she knew that voice too.

It really was Poppy.

Immediately Minerva released her sister and backed away. "Oh Gods, I'm so sorry. I saw your hand reaching for me and I-"

"It's alright, Min," Poppy reassured her as she climbed off the bed. "I'm just glad you're awake."

"Did anything happened while I was asleep? How much time has passed?"

"Relax, Minerva," Mikail said, leaning against the bedpost, "everything vent as planned. It has only been about twenty minutes since you fell asleep."

Minerva nodded, or at least tried to, until the throbbing in her head became unbearable and she felt woozy again.

"Are you all right?"

"I will be in a minute, I think," Minerva replied as she moved towards the nearby wall. She closed her eyes and rested against it, fighting the pulsing pain in her head all the while beginning to see flashes of the memory; the lighting, Tradisi's face in the fire, her mother cradling her and kissing her tenderly. "I'm just... dizzy."

"Yes, and likely a little unsettled."

Minerva felt herself nod. There was so much information in that memory that detailed Minerva's early life, how her mother used to be, her relationship with Tradisi, her grief for her father, and so much more. There one line in particular though that continued to repeat over and over in her mind, _"You won't remember this, not for a while."_

Had her mother planned all this? It certainly seemed that way now, but the question was, _why? _What was she planning? Why had she been talking to Tradisi in the first place; and why would she allow Minerva to listen to the conversation if she was going to suppress and erase it in the end? If Isobel _had_ planned for this memory to be found, then did she plan for the others as well? Not to mention when, where, and how she planned to make that happen... _unless that plan is being fulfilled at this very moment._

Minerva opened her eyes to glance at Mikail, then shut them again. He _had_ been rather willing to help. He was her age, already a promising Legilimens, and was transferred just this year when her relationship with Isobel was beginning to unravel...

_No, this is just coincidence. It has to be. I didn't even known my memories were tampered with when he transferred to Hogwarts..._

Yet as crazy and invalid as it seemed, Minerva was not yet ready to completely discard it. Her mother liked to play games, and this was just the sort of thing that she would do. But it still didn't make sense as of why Isobel would suppress and tamper with most of the memory, then erase important parts. She could only conclude that the suppressed bits were meant to be clues... but to _what?_ If it wasn't about the family curse, then what could it be?

The pain had subsided, but she still felt incredibly dizzy, both physically and mentally. What was all the more frustrating for her was that this memory was causing Minerva to question her feelings about her mother. For most of Minerva's life, Isobel had been a manipulative witch who had little to no desire to be anything but cold towards her own daughter, and as of the past few years she had begun to behave like that to everyone else around her except two people; Cayden and her husband.

Upon learning about the family curse, it seemed only logical that her behaviour was due to her steadily degenerating sanity; however, after hearing what was said in this memory, it seemed that Isobel had- at that time -had a very good idea of what she was doing, especially when she abandoned Galatea and Helena. That fact was probably the most disturbing revelation of them all. It seemed that there might actually be a reason, other than the insanity, for Isobel leaving them, _and_ that Tradisi may have been involved.

She felt the instant need to inform her guardians of this, but she remembered her mother's plea and felt utterly torn. Galatea and Helena deserved to know the truth and yet, she found herself siding with her mother. Both women had already endured so much, thanks to Isobel, and had done their best to move on. The information meant nothing without knowing Isobel's reason and it would be highly unfair to bring them further torment; although, as Minerva thought about it, the reason didn't even matter as it was highly likely that nothing could fix their broken hearts with Isobel's degenerating mental state.

With a sigh, Minerva finally decided that she would keep silent for the time being, but _not_ because her mother had asked her to.

"Are you feeling better now?" Poppy inquired, interrupting her sister's thoughts.

No longer feeling physically sick, Minerva removed herself from the wall and stood up straight once again. "Yes, and thank you both."

"Shall _v_e assume you didn't see anything that helped?" Mikail asked.

"I had hoped these adaquels would answer my questions, but it seems that the more I dig, the more distant the answers I search for become. It's like a never ending conundrum. I don't wish to cease uncovering these memories, however."

He smiled. "I never had any doubts at all."

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><p><strong>As always, I hope you enjoyed and please review :)<strong>

**~LinK**


	48. Spiralem, part II

**Another day in this carnival of souls**

**Another night settles in as quickly as it goes**

**The memories are shadows; ink on the page**

**And I can't seem to find my way home**

~Far From Home by Five Finger Death Punch

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><p><strong>AN: **Firstly, I want to apologize for the lack of response; a few days after I last updated, my family suffered a very unexpected loss of a cousin and my mind has been everywhere trying to help them and keep up with college. Secondly, because of this, I'd like to give a_**long**_ overdue "thank you" those who reviewed last chapter, it was wonderful to see that PoaG continues to draw an interest! Thirdly, I'm ready to get out of Minerva's sixth year as much as you are, but please bare with it for a little while longer! All will be revealed in time...

A big thank you to a good friend of mine, **Gtfomyland**, for helping **EmpoweredBeing** edit as **Spin_84 **had been very busy as of late.

Enjoy :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 39 - Spiralem, part II<strong>

**November 29th, 1942:**

Minerva sighed as she sat in the courtyard, scanning Rolanda's Transfiguration essay for any further mistakes while she waited for the hawk-eyed witch to come back from a run. There was still no word on Lucretia, and Minerva could not shake the sinking feeling that what the Grey Lady had said was correct; Lucretia Black had been Possessed. It made for an altogether stronger case that Mikail Lutrov might be involved, especially since he was a Legilimens; however, Poppy assured her that the wizard had been with her that night and Minerva highly doubted he had access to a Time-Turner. Still, she found herself following Galatea's example, and was not going to rule Mikail out just yet.

Despite her decision to keep the information in her recovered memory to herself, Minerva was glad that Galatea was away for the weekend. Every part of the memory was nagging at her, but there was one thing in particular that she couldn't stop pondering; the person whose name had been erased. They were clearly important, that much she was certain of, but the how and why was just as mysterious as the missing name.

Minerva had played the heated conversation over and over again in her head, trying to find any clue that would help her solve this mystery, but there was only one lead and it was vague. Tradisi had gone from commenting Isobel's mental state, to believing her daughter was seeing this mystery individual, which implied that they- whoever they are -was somehow involved in Isobel's grand scheme. Not only that, but Isobel had become very defensive when Tradisi said the person was _'not as safe'_ as previously thought, thus indicating that the person had already been in hiding.

_She has to be one of the two people that know Màthair's secret,_ Minerva finally concluded. _Why else would she completely erase their name and the argument that ensued after being mentioned from my memory? Especially if I'm correct in believing that she wanted me to remember almost everything else..._

_But who is it?_

Minerva pursed her lips and let her mind wander through all the people that she knew. She settled on two potential candidates that might know the answer; Evangeline Orpington and Claire, the Seer. The thought of having to endure the Seer's rubbish made her lip curl, but she would force herself to talk with the woman for as long as it took in order to get the information she needed. As for the Minister... well she had a little leverage she could use now.

Feeling Rolanda coming back, Minerva snapped out of her thoughts and looked up to see her sister waving at to Amelia Bones before she ran up to the bench, concluding her exercise.

"Did you have a good run?" she asked as Rolanda sat down next to her.

"Yeah, it turns out that I'm not the only one running to take my mind off things."

Minerva frowned at her response and glanced back at where the Hufflepuff had been. "Is Amelia's family still in danger?"

"She didn't really talk about it, but I could tell she's very tense," Rolanda answered, avoiding eye contact. Her silence that followed, along with the haunted expression on her face was enough for Minerva to draw conclusions.

"You've received another letter haven't you? Was it from your mother, or Xavier?"

"Mum." Rolanda exhaled deeply as she leaned against the castle wall. "She said the murderer is somewhere in Soviet territory and she and Uncle Peter want to go after him."

"How soon?"

"I don't know, she didn't say. Come to think of it, I haven't heard from Xavier in a while."

"It's only been a month, Rola. You know the war makes it hard to communicate," she leaned forward, "and I'll bet you he has a dozen letters ready to send to you when he's able."

Moisture glistened on Rolanda's lashes as a smile tugged her lips. "You're right, I'm just letting fear get to me." Rolanda used her index finger to clear her eyes, then grabbed Minerva's hand. "How are you holding up with the new memory?"

"I'm managing. It wasn't frightening, just, very strange - frustrating and altogether confusing." Minerva shook her head. "There's not much I can do, except wait until our exams are over and we have some free time over the holidays to reconstruct the other memories."

"True," Rolanda responded as she hopped to her feet, pulling Minerva up with her, "Okay, let's find Poppy so I can study with her for our Potions exam, while you edit your paper over lunch, because I _know_ you want as much time as you can to polish it up before you have to go on patrol tonight - speaking of which, where are you and Poppy stationed this time?"

"Poppy will be guarding the Grand Staircase and I'll be guarding the first three floors of the Grand Staircase. Why?"

"No reason, I'm just glad it's not the Dungeons while Professor Merrythought isn't here."

* * *

><p>Mikail narrowed his eyes at the Arithmancy text before him. Every now and then he'd still encounter a word or phrase in English that he couldn't comprehend, especially when dealing with magical terms. They weren't all universal, and some had no translation between English and Russian at all, which made it all the more difficult. Usually the glossary was enough to help him, but not this time. He suspected that Minerva would know the answer- despite having dropped Arithmancy two years ago -but he'd rather stay on her good side for a while and opted to wait until Poppy and Rolanda were finished reviewing the process of creating a Polyjuice Potion, before interrupting.<p>

"Poppy, could you tell me vhat this sentence is referring too?"

"Hmm?" the apprentice healer looked up from her book, then leaned forward to read the line he was pointing to. "It's talking about the Septem Quadratae Theory. Did you learn about it last year?"

"No, I didn't, I've only heard it mentioned. Is it about the 49 variations to every outcome?"

"Yes," she smiled softly. "Bridget Wenlock discovered that there are a total of 49 variations to any outcome because of the seven quadrants which exist in any Arithmancy calculation. She discovered that there are only 48 variations which are 'plausible', as the 49th always results in, what she called, a 'black hole' in Arithmancy predictions."

"Vhich means-"

"The 49th variation doesn't result in a definite outcome, but it is not an infinite one either - it's imaginary and unpredictable; thus, the most probable any conclusion can be predicted is 97.9591 percent."

Mikail narrowed his eyes as a memory of a very strange evening two years ago with his mentor flashed in his mind. Master Karkaroff had been working feverishly on a very long scroll filled with numbers and symbols when Mikail had walked into his study for their usual Legilimency lessons. His master had ordered his student to sit and work on his studies in the meantime, but Mikail had found it incredibly hard to concentrate when his master suddenly became enraged. Karkaroff grabbed another scroll and began scribbling again, but after several minutes, he had set the scroll ablaze, declaring, _"It is not possible! It is supposed to be unpredictable, imaginary! 49 does not exist!"_

In his anger, he had scattered the multitude of papers and scrolls from his desk, toppling over his inkwells. He'd then summoned them back to him, one by one, scanning them over, before throwing them into the fire as he counted them off. When he finally reached 49, he looked as if he wanted to tear it into shreds and burn each individual piece until they were gone, but he didn't. His master stayed quiet for a while, until Mikail finally asked him what was troubling him so. Master Karkaroff had rolled the '49th' scroll up and placed it in a box on his shelf before replying, _"A very grave thing that- if you are smart -will never discover in the years to come. It would be in your best interest to not get attached when you get to Hogwarts."_

"Does that ring a bell?" Poppy's hand touched his, bringing him back to reality.

"Yes," he blinked, "it, does."

"Is something the matter?"

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, then feigned a smile. "Nothing to vorry about."

She glared at him with a piercing stare. "You'd tell me if there was, wouldn't you?"

"Of course. Really, it is nothing."

Poppy seemed to take him at his word, but as his gaze settled back to his book, he caught an icy stare from Minerva.

"Mind if we have a chat?" the witch asked coolly, then glanced at her friends. "In private."

Mikail felt his stomach twist with dread. He was unsure why, but he got the uneasy feeling that she knew something that he didn't.

"No, not at all."

"Good."

They moved out of the Great Hall and found a more secluded area, before Minerva cast a Silencing Charm and shot him a severe look as she rounded on him. "Firstly, if you know anything about Lucretia Black, you better tell me this instant."

Mikail fought to keep his eyes from drifting. It amazed him how much she resembled Professor Merrythought, right down to her cold, unforgiving stare that made shivers run down his spine.

"I only know vhat's being said, but I believe she may have been Possessed. By whom, I'm uncertain- and before you ask - I am just as uncertain of who is behind the killings of koshki... cats."

"All right, secondly; you weren't sent to Hogwarts to find me and help me to uncover my memories, where you? Because if you were Mikail, I need to know who sent you and why - and I need to know _now_."

"_Vhat?"_ Mikail nearly stumbled backwards. "You think I vas-" he shook his head. "Vhat makes you think that?"

"The last memory that we uncovered," Minerva responded seemingly unphased by his shock. "I believe my màthair planned for me to see the restored version at some point; the question is when did she intend for this to happen and how would it have happened?"

"Look, Minerva," he stared straight into her eyes, trying to make her see that he wasn't lying about himself at least, "I promise you, I do not have the answers you are looking for. I vish I did, but I-"

"Why do you even care?" the witch interjected. Mikail recoiled, baffled by how abrupt she was being, but when he opened his mouth to respond, Minerva cut him off before he could utter a syllable. "Your mentor, Erlend Karkaroff, he knew Professor Merrythought and they have a bit of history together. Do you think he planned for this to happen? For you to unlock my memories?"

"How vould his involvement with Merrythought connect him your mother?"

"She," Minerva hesitated, "was close to my màthair, once."

"Not any more?"

"No, and you are evading the question."

Mikail furrowed his brows as he pondered the motives of his mentor. He had to admit, it was a very strange set of coincidences. The young witch his master asked him to protect, just happened to be Minerva McGonagall; who just this year discovered that her memories had been tampered with, and it just so happened that he had been trained, and had become a very skilled Legilimens.

"I know it's a long shot, and it could possibly be _just_ a coincidence, but do you think it could be more than that? There are two people that my màthair would have likely trusted this sort of task to, but who these people are is unknown to me and no one that I know of at the present moment fits. The fact that Karkaroff knows Professor Merrythought is-"

"I believe it might be possible that could he know your mother."

Minerva arched a brow. "And what makes you think that?"

He shook his head. "I cannot tell you. You vill simply have to trust me on this."

"You tell me that he could know my màthair, but you cannot tell me _why_?" the witch scoffed.

"He, my master, told me-" Mikail bit his tongue, he couldn't tell her. It wasn't safe, not for her, for him, or anyone else who knew her.

"_What_ did he tell you?" Minerva stepped forward, determination shining in her eyes. Mikail straightened his back, but it did nothing as Minerva met him eye to eye. He thought about walking away, but he knew the fallout would be against his advantage. Poppy would no doubt catch on and questions would be asked, therefore delaying all this efforts. He had no choice but to answer with something that held a similar cloudy meaning to the whole truth, but one that had altogether less important information.

"I believe that my master found an answer to a 49th variation. Vhat he was trying to answer, I don't know, but he told me it was a very grave thing that he hoped I vould never discover. He suggested very strongly that I not become attached vhen I came to Hogwarts."

Minerva pursed her lips. "And you think he was referring to my situation when- _if_ -you were to help recover my memories?"

"Only if vhat you're saying is true, that he does know about your mother's secret and did plan to have me aid you in retrieving your lost memories."

She eyed him cautiously. "What will you say to your master if this all turns out to be true?"

"I vould hex him first," Mikail growled, "but then I vould tell him that I have absolutely no plans to become unattached."

* * *

><p>"Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tessie Prewett: North Ground Floor, and do not go through the viaduct bridge," Professor Dumbledore warned as he listed off the positions of the night's patrol. "Poppy Pomfrey: first three floors of the Grand Staircase. Maximus Trayvon, you're guarding the Great Hall. Amelia Bones: Hufflepuff Basement and the Kitchens. Septimus Weasley and Emmeline Vance: Potions classroom and the North Dungeon halls. As for the South Dungeon halls, Gabriel Lemars and Mi-" Professor Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles. It might have been the dim lighting, but Minerva thought she saw his eyes darkened. He cleared his throat and glanced at the Prefects.<p>

"My apologies, there's been a change of plans. Mr Lemars, you will instead accompany me to the Great Hall, Miss Pomfrey, you will be paired with Miss McGonagall tonight," Dumbledore removed his frames as the scroll vanished, "and you will both be patrolling the South Dungeons."

Minerva heard Poppy sniff, but she couldn't look away from Professor Dumbledore. His expression was stiff; his jaw clenched and shoulders back further than normal. His gaze swept over them all, before finally lingering on Minerva, and at that moment everything became clear. The prefect order must have been changed without the deputy's knowledge.

"You may disperse," the deputy gestured at the group of Prefects. Minerva waited just a moment longer to see if he'd call upon them, but he didn't. Maybe she should have gone up herself and asked him a few questions, but she trusted his judgement.

"Come on," Minerva whispered to Poppy as she started off for the dungeons.

"Min, wait, don't you think we should ask what's going on?"

"If Professor Dumbledore deemed it important enough, he'd have told us to wait."

"Dumbledore's keeping something from you that involves your safety. I don't like it."

"We don't have to like it Poppy, we just have to do what is expected of us."

"And what is that?" Poppy hissed through her teeth as she grabbed Minerva's hand and pulled her to a stop. "At this moment, what is Dumbledore expecting you to do?"

"What we're all expected to do; patrol the corridors for anyone out of bed, take every precaution, and report it if we see something suspicious."

Annoyance flashed in her sister's eyes as she marched past her. "Let's get this over with then."

* * *

><p>Poppy stayed relatively quiet for a while as they inspected the corridors, clearly unhappy with the situation, but Minerva was determined to change that, especially with the conversation between her and Mikail bothering her.<p>

"Poppy, has Mikail told you anything about his master?"

Her sister hesitated. "Not much."

Minerva lashed a glance at her. "So he has told you something?"

"Only trivial details or things we already know, Minerva. Mikail thinks he is one of Durmstrang's best professors; he taught Mikail Legilimency; he has connections with the Untergang, Anhänger, and possibly Grindelwald; and he was close to Mikail's parents."

"How close?"

"Before Mikail's mother died, Karkaroff vowed to keep Mikail free from the Untergang."

Minerva turned her head to face Poppy. "So his mentor sent him here?"

Poppy drew back the drapes, doing the best she could to keep her annoyance out of her voice, "Min, I thought we went over this."

"Yes we did, but things have changed since then."

"Like what?" the apprentice spun around, "And don't say it's because I'm courting Mikail."

"I wasn't going to."

Poppy pursed her lips, but her expression softened as they began walking again. "Min, I know it seems like such a sudden and drastic change of feelings, but I am genuinely fond of him and- wait," she stopped in her tracks and squinted down the corridor, "is that..."

Without another word, she flicked her wand at the object that had captivated her interest, and what was illuminated instantly rooted Minerva to the floor. A familiar young Slytherin witch with straight, jet black hair stood but a few meters from them; and at her feet was a familiar plump feline.

"Oscar," Poppy breathed.

Augusta's missing cat had finally been found, yet they both found it troubling that he was sitting so rigidly at the feet of Eileen Prince. Narrowing her eyes as her unease of the situation rose, Minerva fished out her wand. She should have been able to detect Eileen long ago with her awareness, not to mention Oscar - who Minerva couldn't even smell.

_That shouldn't be possible!_

Catching the movement of Poppy beginning to darted forth, Minerva grabbed her sister's arm.

"Wait," she hissed in her ear, "something's not right. I can't detect her or Oscar with my magical awareness, so someone must have cloaked them. Furthermore," Minerva glanced at Eileen and caught a strange, almost deviant half smile on the Slytherin's face, "she shouldn't be here."

As soon as she had finished talking, Eileen Prince turned on her heel and ran. Oscar muttered a low growl and shot them a menacing glare. Minerva could have sworn that she saw the same white glaze in his eyes that she had seen in Fang's when he had attacked her. She didn't have time to take a second look before he turned and bounded after the Slytherin.

Poppy strangely gasped and went rigid. Her eyelashes fluttered a few times, then she relaxed, causing Minerva to look sideways at her.

"Poppy?"

"Well, if you're not going to investigate, then I am." Her sister's voice sounded wrong somehow, but she didn't have time to contemplate the reason before Poppy bolted down the corridor after Eileen and Oscar.

"Poppy, stop!"

But she didn't. She just kept on running.

Cursing under her breath, Minerva followed. She may have been damning her promise to Helena that she'd stay out of trouble, but she was certain that the matron would rather she go after Poppy and keep her safe, than stay put. They hadn't run very far, twenty meters at most, before Eileen and Oscar suddenly separated for two strides, then halted in their tracks and spinning around and waiting.

What happened next was a blur as Poppy suddenly started falling. Minerva grabbed her hand without a thought, but she hadn't been able to prepare herself for the effect of Poppy falling _through_ the floor. Minerva immediately dived to her left to prevent herself from falling through the same hole, slamming into the stone floor with a groan. Despite her stunned state and aching head, Minerva had managed to keep her grip on Poppy's hand for a moment longer, before Poppy did the unthinkable.

She let go.

The next thing Minerva heard was an alarming _crack!_... and then a frightening silence.

"Poppy?" she called, pushing past her confusion as she turned over and looked down. She was still amazed that the stone tile below her had simply vanished, but what she saw down below chilled her blood. Twelve feet down was a dark, dusty room and Poppy was laying on her back, completely limp. "Poppy, answer me!"

The echo of her own voice was her answer - a potentially terrifying answer. In that moment, Minerva shoved all other thoughts and questions from her mind and focused on her sister. Without a second thought, she transformed into her Animagus and jumped down into the mysterious room, relying on her feline instincts to guide her as she fell. Her paws ached the moment they hit the cold stone floor, but there was no time to wince. Normally, Minerva would have assessed her surroundings before she transformed, but given the circumstances, she did the opposite. Using the adrenaline pumping through her veins to aid her focus, she returned to human form and allowed her magical awareness to be her guard.

The discomfort in her ankles worsened, but she pushed it away as she knelt at Poppy's side and found that, to her immense relief, Poppy was only unconscious. Minerva briefly looked up and calculated the distance Poppy must have fallen after letting go and decided it must have been about seven feet. It was better than twelve certainly, but she was still concerned that Poppy had hit her head on the way down. Frowning, Minerva gently felt behind Poppy's head, pulling away immediately when she felt warm liquid touch her fingers.

"Bugger!" she hissed as she quickly took off her scarf, folded it, and very carefully placed it underneath Poppy's head. She really wished that she had read more of Poppy's healing books, but there was no time to reflect on the past. She had to act now; especially considering the creepy feeling that was raising her anxiety. Minerva had just begun to fish out her wand when she picked up a foul odour that made her want to wretch. It smelled of blood, and yet, not. It was wrong somehow, like it was burning, _twisted_.

Without further delay, Minerva waved her wand, summoning her Patronus and sent it to Helena. She hadn't been able to explain in detail exactly where she was, as she had to cut off when she heard someone who sounded an awful lot like Antoine Lestrange holler, "Come on, Umbridge, you can't be such a little toad and hop around all the time! Fight me!"

Looking around for where the voices, and odour, was coming from Minerva spotted a wooden door rotting on its hinges. Taking extra precautions in case they had heard something, Minerva prepared for a potential battle. She gently tucked Poppy's arms and legs into her body as much as she could without moving her head.

"Stop patronizing me! I'm only just beginning to learn!" said the nasally voice that unmistakably belonged to Dolores Umbridge.

Narrowing her eyes, Minerva stood up and began walking towards the door. She barely made it three steps when she picked up another scent that made her freeze.

_Cats._

"Knock it off, you guys!" Someone else hissed. "I'm tellin' you, I heard something."

Minerva's right hand instantly reached for the concealed silver relic hanging on her hip, and brought it around as it grew to it's full size. While her magical awareness was blocked at the door, her nose could detect the scents of several people through the foul animal stench.

This wasn't going to be pretty.

"For the sake of the Gods, Parkison, if it makes you feel better, then go and bloody check the entrance yourself - but I'm telling _you_ that you're mad. No one knows about this place but us."

Thinking fast, Minerva took two steps back and one to the left in order to give her the perfect angle to protect Poppy and disarm Parkinson when he opened the door. With a final prayer to the Gods, Minerva readied herself for battle.

The door cracked open and Minerva's wrist flicked.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

The wizard's wand jerked violently from his hand and flew across the room. Parkinson's eyes went wide as moons as he jumped back. "Shit, it's McGonagall!" he exclaimed, "I told you!"

"Damn!" Minerva heard another exclaim as those in the room rushed through the door. There were seven in total; Patrick Parkinson, Sigmund Avery, Antoine Lestrange, Walden Macnair, the Carrow twins, and Frederick Goyle. Dolores was noticeably absent.

"How the hell did you get here?"

"Shut up, Goyle. Her friend obviously fell through, she probably did the same," Lestrange barked with annoyance. "Avery, take care of her."

Minerva readied her sword in case the Killing curse was used - would be her only defence against an _Avada Kedavra _as she couldn't move without Poppy potentially getting hit. "Try it, I assure you, you'll regret it."

"Regret?" Alecto Carrow echoed with a devious giggle. "McGonagall, _you_ might regret doing the many things we've done, but we certainly never will," she turned to Avery, "What are you waiting for? Kill her!"

He turned to his comrade, dropping his voice to a whisper, clearly not knowing that Minerva could hear every word, "Alecto, cats is one thing, and _Imperiusing_ students is beginning to cross the line, but killing another student-"

"Are you backing out? Now? After all we've got planned?"

"No! I just think that maybe we should _let _ourselves get caught; maybe we'd have a better chance of escaping if we did."

"Coward!" Macnair hissed, stepping forward. "I say we kill McGonagall and _then _make our escape."

"You won't be able to get passed me," her voice flowed with bold confidence as she too took a step forward. If she was going to have to fight them, she'd need enough room to protect herself and Poppy's limp form. Minerva was already calculating her chances and plotting manoeuvres if the need arose. There were six of them with wands- seven, if Dolores Umbridge decided to show up again.

_I'll have to fend off seven wizards using Unforgivables all while protecting Poppy. Okay... relax. It'll just be a little harder than fending off Galatea's training statues. I just need to stall them until someone gets here. Nathan and Dumbledore should be on their way. I'll just need to be clever._

_And so very careful._

Amycus scoffed, "Oh _please_, it's six against one, you can't possibly win."

"Yeah, step aside, you filth-ridden half-blood!" Goyle sneered as Minerva's gaze flicked subtly around the room. Her ability to manoeuvre was limited by the space, but also because if she dared to move too from where she stood, Poppy was left vulnerable. If the situation wasn't so dire, she might have actually been excited to face a challenge again. "Or I'll be forced to find some _'entertainment'_ as we wait for your Squib-loving friend to wake up, so I can kill you- right in front of her eyes!"

"I'm afraid it's the opposite, Goyle, as you will lose whether or not you can defeat me," Minerva asserted rather disingenuously. "What makes you think you can escape Hogwarts with the Ministry here? Even if you do manage to kill me, when the professors realise that two prefects are missing, they'll turn the castle upside down searching for us. They know where Poppy and I were stationed and they'll scour every inch of stone until we are found."

"And what if I said that's all part of the plan, huh, McGonagall?"

"What do you mean?" Minerva felt a shiver run down her back.

Lestrange's eyes gleamed as he began to walk to his left, keeping his wand steady, no doubt taking pleasure in imagining the things he could do to her. "What do you say boys? Shall we indulge her of our grand insidious plan and let her into our little scheme before we kill her?"

Minerva noticed Avery's discomfort as the other four voiced their approval, before her eyes then flickered to the torch fire in the room beyond the door and filed it away for possible use.

"We've decided to take a side in this war, the side of the victors," Lestrange explained. "Britain, although she still puts up a valiant fight, has already lost. It may take years, but in league with the Untergang, Grindelwald is unstoppable."

As Lestrange continued on, Minerva eyed the wall behind them and briefly studied it. _A well placed combustion charm would cause the best distraction, but I'd have to used a shield charm..._"It just so happens that my mother has deep connections with the Untergang and got us signed up - but the Untergang doesn't just take _anyone_. No, they need loyal and powerful magicians in the Dark Arts-"

"-so we decided to show our prowess and to teach those worthy," Goyle finished proudly, puffing out his chest.

She blinked, realising the full weight of their conversation. _So there were people in Hogwarts working for the Untergang after all!_

"You intimidated your House to prevent them from speaking about it," Minerva deduced.

"Yes..." Lestrange confirmed as he flashed an annoyed glare at the wizard, before gazing back to his opponent with sinister determination.

"Then please indulge me just a moment longer, if you will, as I am curious to know who your mother's friend is?"

Lestrange shrugged. "Dunno his name. He only goes by E.K., it's probably a code name. Doesn't matter. He'll bail us out if we've been caught, and the Ministry won't be able to do anything about it."

_E.K... E.K... _Minerva pursed her lips._ Could it be Erlend Karkaroff?_ Her stomach knotted at the thought. She prayed it wasn't, but now wasn't the time to ponder. She was out of time, and quickly running out of options. If her wand moved, they'd fire and she'd be left using her sword as a defence in that second.

"All right, that's enough chatting!" Macnair stepped forward and Minerva concentrated harder on the wall behind her opponents. "Let's kill this witch and get-"

"_Bombarda!" _she shouted.

_**BOOM.**_

Minerva quickly arced her wand, casting a shield charm around her as chunks of the wall exploded and dust filled the air, making it hard to breathe. She felt Amycus fall to the ground with her awareness and allowed herself a quick smile.

Shielding herself and Poppy had cost her time to set up her own offence, forcing her to dodge several flashes of green and red that sparked from her opponents' wands. The _thud_ of someone hitting the floor vibrated in her ears and relying on her magical awareness to see, she realised _Avery_ had fired at the group, though who he had hit was still a mystery.

_Five to go... four if Avery doesn't switch sides again._

"What the hell-"

"Kill her!" By the time Macnair shouted, Minerva had stunned Goyle, an easy target for being so round.

"_Avada-" _Lestrange's voice began the first part of the fatal curse and Minerva's instincts took over. She dropped the floor, covering Poppy in the process, as he uttered the rest of the spell. _"Kedavra!"_

The green jet of light blasted where her head had been just a moment ago. Acting on intuition and just a little bit of luck, Minerva stayed as low as she could while moving her body into a position that favoured offence. She heard the Carrows fire their own set of curses, and just as she predicted, their spells were still aimed the general area of where Minerva _had_ been.

_Idiots._

"Is she dead?"

"I didn't hear her fall."

"Then we shoot all three Unforgivables around the room," Macnair's sinister voice vibrated off the walls, "then we'll know for sure one way or another."

A gasp was heard from above and frantic footsteps began to fade from the opening above them.

"Run Emmeline! Get a professor or someone - anyone!" the voice yelled. Minerva thought it sounded like Septimus Weasley, but she couldn't be sure. The pain in her feet began to worsen after the vigorous motion of their duelling, but she pushed it aside.

"Damn it, Macnair, close the entrance!" Alecto yelled.

_I need to drive them back. Now._

Minerva suddenly remembered the torch she had seen earlier. She had yet to really practice with pyrotechnic spells, but at this point it didn't matter. It was time to trust her magic to guide her as it had done so many times over. Drawing on her Gryffindor courage and the determination to protect Poppy, Minerva flicked her wand, feeling her magic burst forth. In a blink of an eye, the fire had danced from across the room to the tip of her wand, before furiously attacking her opponents as she weaved the flames around the room. She felt like she was dancing as she commanded the scorching heat, weaving her wand in jerky, curving motions from left to right.

Minerva noticed the dim light from above them fade to darkness and deduced that Macnair had been successful in closing the entrance, but it was clear that all was not for nothing when Alecto screamed as if she'd just been burned.

"Fall back!"

The dust was beginning to settle by now, enough that Minerva could see where Lestrange had dodged moved to and where his wand was pointing. Minerva instantly halted her _pyrospells_ and brought her sword up near her face just in time for the sword to intercept the flash of chartreuse green from Lestrange.

Noticing that Parkinson was about to charge, she almost turned her focus on him instead of Lestrange as he moved back towards the group, but Avery lunged at him, slamming them both to the ground. Minerva still didn't trust Avery's motives, but she was nevertheless grateful for his assistance.

"_Vulnera Cruentus!"_

"_Crucio!"_

Instantly her body shifted into a defensive form as she blocked both spells, before thrusting the sword forward.

"_VENTUS!"_

Alecto was blasted back, but Lestrange had cast an effective shield charm and remained where he was. Thinking tactically, Minerva knew she needed him to move back with Alecto, so she shifted her focus and fired spell after spell at him.

That cost her. She hadn't noticed Macnair until he shot out from behind Lestrange and fired, _"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Intuitively, she knew she wouldn't make it in time, but Minerva tried to dodge the spell anyway by whipping her shoulders at a 45 degree angle. Just as it was about to hit her, _something_ glided straight through her and the air became frigid. She recognised the figure as the Grey Lady just as the jet of green light dissipated with few wisps of ash-like substance upon colliding with the ghost. The room went completely silent as total darkness engulfed everyone inside. Minerva would have preferred it to stay that way, especially with her integrated night-vision, but Avery and Lestrange lit their wands. It was at that moment that the ghost's low cackle rippled throughout the room, making everyone shiver.

"Ohh _please,_" the Grey lady stretched her hand out as she taunted, "try it again. I _dare _you."

"If you insist!"

This time, Lestrange, Alecto Carrow, and Macnair fired all three Unforgivables, but the ghost only laughed further as they dissipated. Minerva's eyes flickered to Avery as he subtly moved to the wall left of her.

"What a foolish bunch of magicians," the ghost's thick Scottish lilt edged her haut tone. "You scored 'Poor', 'Dreadful', and 'Troll' in History, no doubt; if you had scored higher you would know that the Unforgivables are useless against ghosts. We cannot be controlled, we have no bodies, we have no minds as we are merely imprinted souls; you cannot cause us physical pain, for we are no long physical beings and we feel nothing but the anguish in our hearts; but perhaps, most importantly, you cannae _kill _what is already _dead_!"

"Alecto, you daft fool, they've been stalling us!" Avery muttered with his back now turned to Minerva. "I bet you Dumbledore's searching for how to get in right now, or worse, Merrythought. She'll hex your arse into oblivion."

"Ohh, we have at least one mind still functioning," the Grey Lady chided.

Minerva's awareness detected a phantom blip in the next room and she used the distraction to immediately glance at the dust covered floor behind them for footprints. Thinking about feet, she noted that the tenderness in her ankles began to subside the longer she stood still, which made her frown. She really hoped that she hadn't suffered a stress fracture after jumping twelve feet. _Helena's going to have a fit..._

"Well if we can't do anything with the blasted ghost in the way, yank McGonagall out of that corner and _then_ kill her!"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, this blade isn't just for show."

Grey Lady quietly hissed and became rigid at her comment, but did nothing else.

"I second McGonagall," Avery spoke up, pointing his wand at the wizards again. "I never agreed to killing anyone while we were at Hogwarts."

Two red flashes of light impaled Alecto and Lestrange from behind. Minerva immediately shot her wand around the ghost and stunned Macnair.

"Well it's a good bloody thing yeh didn't, laddie," a familiar Scottish voice echoed in the room as the three stunned wizards dropped to the floor, "'cause if I had found Miss McGonagall dead, yeh wouldnae be in much better shape yerself."

Avery suddenly jerked back as if he'd been slugged in the head, then fell to the floor, as a familiar wizard with lavender eyes shimmered out of his disillusion charm.

Minerva breathed a sigh of relief, "_Broc_."

Despite the graveness of his expression, he managed a small smile. "Kellas Cat, darlin'."

She paid no attention to the ghost drifting away when she rushed to hug the wizard. As she felt his arms go around her, she realised that she had never been so happy to hear his voice. As they let go, Minerva's gaze drifted behind Nathan and saw Dolores Umbridge laying near the entrance of the door and came to the conclusion that Avery had stunned her for she could not recall doing so herself. Nathan must have seen her puzzled face as he suddenly closed the door behind them.

"Trust me, lass, yeh do _not_ want ta know what happened in there," he stated as he subtly turned them around to face the other direction. "I am sorry it took so long, I had ta find where the hell yeh were," the wizard glanced at the Slytherins now laying on the ground, "although I have ta say yeh handled the situation pretty well considering yeh were faring against this lot. How's yer friend?"

Minerva turned towards Poppy and knelt at her sister's side, ignoring the pain that sparked in her ankles again. Poppy breathing was shallow, but her pulse was still strong.

"Her vitals are okay for now, but she has a head injury," Minerva relayed as she checked the scarf. It wasn't soaked, nor had the blood steeped much through the cloth, "and it would seem the bleeding has stopped."

"Good, Helena should be here any-"

As if on cue, Minerva heard the matron's worried voice from above, "Are you _sure_ this is the key stone, Albus?"

"Positive," the familiar baritone of her Transfiguration professor faintly echoed, "just have to find the- ahh, the trigger." The sound of stone moving and light from above ensured their rescue and Minerva turned her head and looked up to see Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkling down at her. "It's good to see you, Minerva."

"It's good to see you too, Professor."

* * *

><p>Minerva managed to conceal the discomfort in her ankles rather well. It helped that the aching had stopped when she stood still, and standing around talking for long periods of time allowed her that privilege; though the matron's concentration was rather more centred on her unconscious apprentice, so it hadn't been hard. Poppy had been gently levitated out of the room and taken to the hospital wing, and while Helena had been insistent, Minerva was excused from being immediately admitted under a promise that Professor Dumbledore would escort her there soon. After Helena was out of earshot, Minerva very briefly explained about Eileen and the possible threat that the detained Slytherins could escape, to which Dumbledore responded by asking Nathan to find Eileen and instructed the Ministry workers who soon arrived to guard the Slytherins at all times, especially during their detained stay at St. Mungo's.<p>

When the Headmaster, the two other Heads of House, and Minister Orpington arrived, Minerva relayed the whole story in detail. As she did, she couldn't help but notice Evangeline's intrigue peaked when the battle was discussed, rather than the other events. Even when the Grey Lady was mentioned, Evangeline blinked expressionlessly.

With the culprits caught, there were only a few questions remaining that were in need of an explanation. One such question was why the room hadn't been found until now, until Professor Dumbledore reminded everyone that Hogwarts had an uncanny way of helping those in need, no matter their intentions. Why Eileen Prince and Oscar had lead Minerva and Poppy to the hidden room, remained a mystery, though there were possibilities. Professor Dumbledore suggested that Tom Riddle and Mikail Lutrov be taken in for questioning, was thankfully not opposed by Evangeline or Professor Dippet, but it was clear that they both wanted to bring the situation to an end in order to prevent further scandal from arising.

"Come, my dear," Professor Dumbledore laid a hand on her shoulder, "I believe I told Madam Nurix that I would escort you to the Hospital Wing, and after tonight I wouldn't want to cause her further worry."

Minerva wholeheartedly agreed and let him steer her away. While she wasn't exactly looking forward to the imminent berate from Helena, she did want to see how Poppy was doing and she certainly didn't mind spending some time with Professor Dumbledore after all she'd been through. She was tired and more than a little sore.

"I apologise for putting you and Miss Pomfrey in such danger," he said after they drew away from the scene of the crime. "When I realised that someone had changed you patrol rotation, I made the assumption that someone wanted you out of the Great Hall area for a reason. I believed that Mr Lemars was in more danger than you, so I accompanied him instead and I assigned Miss Pomfrey to be paired with you in case I was wrong. I didn't wish to change the order too much and throw off any possible leads."

"I understand completely, Sir, and thank you." Professor Dumbledore glanced at her, his auburn brows arched with a question. "For placing another's safety first before mine," she elaborated. "Sometimes I feel like everyone's more concerned about my safety when they should be focusing on those who cannot defend themselves as well as I can."

"Do you believe Professor Merrythought has?"

"I..." she sighed, "I believe Galatea does her best to stay neutral given the circumstances," Minerva replied as they turned to climb the Grand Staircase. With each step she took, her ankles began to feel like they were being stabbed with red hot needles. She tried to ignore it and push on, but she immediately regretted it. The pain that shot up through her through her legs would have caused her to fall back down the staircase if Professor Dumbledore hadn't wrapped his arms around her waist and let her lean on him.

Despite the agony she was in, her stomach had definitely fluttered.

"Minerva, what's wrong?"

"I, ahh-" she hissed through her teeth as she tried to find a more comfortable standing position. "I think I fractured one or both of my ankles when I jumped down into the room."

"That was about twelve feet down..." the wizard mused softly. "Cat or no, I'm surprised you did not break anything. Why didn't you mention this before?"

"It didn't pose much of a problem until now," she admitted.

Professor Dumbledore frowned, but then completely surprised her by lifting her off the ground, tucking her legs over his left arm, and holding her close to his chest.

"Do you think you can make it to the Hospital Wing now?"

Minerva's heart was beating so fast that she had to blink twice before she understood what he said, and she almost moaned at the thought of what the matron would do when she saw Minerva being carried in. "I think we shall both be cursed to hear Helena berate us endlessly for a year! Couldn't you kindly ask Fawkes to heal me instead, and spare us the agony?"

Hearing Professor Dumbledore's chuckle reverberated from his chest was...well, to put it accurately, sensually uplifting.

"A very tempting thought," he replied as he began to carry her up the flight of stairs.

"I was being serious, Professor."

His sapphire eyes twinkled. "As was I. Sadly, the damnable bird has left for his last flight before he must retire. His Burning Day will be upon him soon."

"Well I wish him luck."

"I'm sure he would appreciate it. Despite having done this for all his life, he always is reluctant to burst into flames and be reborn. I have not quite figured out why. I'll have to invite you to his next one, it really is such a beautiful event."

Laying there in his arms, Minerva couldn't keep herself from studying his crooked nose, the way his mouth moved, even his hair.

"I would like that very much," she said quietly. After another moment studying her esteemed professor, she remembered what she had originally planned to ask him before the pain had knocked her over. "Professor, I was wondering; do you believe that the person who indirectly lead me to the culprits betrayed them?"

"It is very possible," he flashed her look of concern, "I fear that Mr Riddle, Mr Lutrov, or someone else entirely, knew of this foul plot all along and decided to lure you and Miss Pomfrey into the trap. While they went about it in a way I can't condone, I do hope that their intentions were not ill."

"So do I," she breathed, thinking about how Poppy would react if Mikail turned out to be a double agent.

"Could you speak to Madam Nurix, and have her talk with the _Spideagan_ to discover who 'E.K.' might be?"

They turned the corner near the Hospital Wing and Minerva began to long for them to slow down, not yet wanting to depart. She couldn't decide whether she was more reluctant to leave him, or to face Helena.

"I planned to, Professor, though I have an unsettling feeling that I already know." She glanced at him awkwardly. "What do you know of Erlend Karkaroff?"

His brows furrowed as he halted his stride and whispered a feather-light charm over her. It hadn't been her intention that he stop, but she wasn't going to complain now. "How do you know that name?"

"You don't know? He was Mikail Lutrov's master."

Professor Dumbledore's brows furrowed as suspicion flashed across his face. He looked away, shaking his head. "Erlend Karkaroff is the deputy headmaster of Durmstrang and, as of late, Grindelwald's Senior Advisor. He is the primary overseer of prisoners and recruitment for the Untergang." He paused as if to let his words sink in. "For one of such high importance, I wouldn't expect him to use his initials, unless he _meant _to be found." Professor Dumbledore inhaled sharply, then returned his gaze to her. "If he is who recruited the Slytherins, then he has another agenda altogether."

"And Mikail?" she asked as he strode once more towards the Hospital entrance.

"I don't like assuming anything, and even if one knows the truth, sometimes it can be deceptive."

The moment they walked through the door, both of them cringed upon hearing Helena's gasp. "Merlin's beard, child! I leave you alone for thirty minutes and you've already managed to hurt yourself! And it's about time you got her here, Albus! What did you do, talk the Minister to death? Oh don't answer that, I bet you argued endlessly," Helena muttered fiercely as Professor Dumbledore set her down on the bed next to Poppy. "This whole blasted evening is why Galatea hardly ever leaves Hogwarts for more than a day, everything always happens when she leaves! Now tell me what happened while I was gone?"

"It's nothing new, Helena," Minerva tried to assure. "It's my ankles. I probably injured them when I jumped down to get to Poppy, but the pain wasn't of much concern until I began walking here."

"Yes, adrenaline does that," the matron quipped as she cast a diagnostic spell and muttered something about Gryffindor brashness.

Minerva glanced at the bed beside her. "How is Poppy?"

"Still unconscious, as you can see," Helena's voice stayed sharp as steel as her eyes flicked back and forth, reading the words and symbols that the spell conjured. "I am at least grateful that you had enough sense not move her and to place the scarf under her head to stop the bleeding."

"Will she recover, Helena?"

"It's nothing that magic and potions won't fix in two months, Professor." The matron pocketed her wand and glanced at Minerva with an expression that made her uncomfortable. She was definitely in for a lecture now. "You may leave, Professor Dumbledore. I am sure there is much that needs to be done."

"She's had a rough night, Helena, try not to be too harsh."

Helena's grey eyes flashed him a glare, one that he held for a moment before bidding them both farewell. At the 'click' of the door closing behind him, the matron _Summoned_ two potions and set one on the table, while instructing Minerva to take the other. The potion reduced her pain, which was probably a good thing because the spells Helena had cast to correct the fractures were rather uncomfortable. While Helena stayed quiet most of the time, she hadn't been unkind during the process; it was after she finished her last diagnostic, when Helena's cold fury resurfaced.

"How did you come across the secret room? And don't you dare downplay what has happened as I question you, Minerva McGonagall, as I _will_ find out how serious the situation was, one way or another."

Minerva took her time to inhale in order to respond calmly. "When Eileen Prince and Oscar began running away from us, Poppy suddenly acted very strangely and bolted after them, so I ran after her. I wouldn't have run after them other wise, I promise."

"Why were either of you down there in the first place? You were specifically assigned _not_ to be in the dungeons for this reason!"

"The patrol order was changed. Professor Dumbledore believes it was done by whoever _Imperiused_ Eileen and Oscar."

Helena shook her head as she crossed her arms. "All right, so let me guess, after Poppy bolted, she fell through the entranceway and you jumped in after her, yes?"

Minerva nodded. "I think I could have prevented her from falling, though, had she not let go of my hand."

"Merlin's beard, she must have been _Imperiused_," she muttered. "Then I assume you sent your Patronus to me after taking care of her, and probably cut off your message when you heard someone's voice in the other room?"

"Yes."

"How much time did you have before you understood the threat of the situation?"

"No more than a minute."

"And how long did you have to prepare before they found you?" her tone grew sharper.

"I had about thirty seconds until Parkinson opened the door and I defended myself."

"Defended yourself," Helena huffed, "yes, I've heard that one before. Tell me, did you at least stun Parkison?"

"No, I disarmed. I didn't want to antagonize them."

"While I can see your point, you should have considered the danger you were in first! The people you were facing were capable of killing you!" Helena groaned, rubbing her temples. "Did Parkinson try to rush you later on?"

Minerva glanced away and nodded her confirmation.

"Well, you won't be making that mistake again, now will you? Did you not learn from your sessions with Galatea that even disarmed opponents are dangerous? Gods, all you Gryffindors think the same way. Attack this, attack that!" the matron rolled her eyes. "You should have used a manipulative defensive spell instead."

Minerva pursed her lips, hoping Helena wasn't suggesting what it sounded like. "Like the Disillusionment Charm?"

"From what you told me, you wouldn't have had time. It takes at least two minutes if not more when using it on a wider area for even the best witch or wizard. No, I meant either casting an _Illusion_ upon them, or given the circumstance... the _Imperius Curse_ on Parkison to make him believe that he saw nothing."

Minerva could hardly believe her ears. The head matron of Hogwarts was telling her that she should have used a form of Legilimency or an Unforgivable! Professor Merrythought saying it was one thing, she was the leader of the Nightingales, but a healer?

"No, I will _not_ stoop to the lows of my enemy!"

"I commend you for being so noble and holding such standards, darling; but please try to see how impractical it is! Sometimes there are situations, like the one you were just in, that call for using forbidden spells as a defence in order to avoid further violence."

"It isnae about what would be acceptable due to the situation, it is about my morals!" Minerva shouted. "Those spells are vile and I will not willingly use them against _anyone_!"

All traces of fury vanished as a sadness crept up on Helena's face and she looked away. "Once pivoted against the Untergang, Minerva, you will think differently. These people... their minds are practically husks, but their bodies and magic are volatile weapons. I can hardly believe that these young magicians would want to become one of them."

Minerva had a hard time seeing how that could be possible, but the more she learned about the Untergang, she began to question why their practices have yet to be exposed in the _Prophet._

"Stick to your morals, my dear," Helena clasped her hand, breaking her thoughts, "but in the name of Merlin, next time you're in such a deadly situation, please try to think more rationally and do everything you have to in order to survive." She searched Minerva's face for a moment, before leaning forward and planting an affectionate kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Minerva, and the last thing I want to see is those I love turn up dead," Helena murmured, her voice threatening to break as tears shimmered on her lashes, "that is the _only_ reason I am saying these things."

They didn't say much else to each other after that, but Helena gave her the other potion, checked on Poppy again, then warded their surroundings. Just before she closed the curtain around her for the night, Minerva remembered what she promised Professor Dumbledore on her way up.

"Helena, do you know of an Untergang affiliate named E.K.?"

Golden brows narrowed as the matron turned her head. "If referring to a code name, no, but there is a wizard's name which comes to mind."

"Erlend Karkaroff?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"E.K. is the agent that was supposedly going to see to it that Lestrange and the other Slytherins were trained by the Untergang."

Helena stiffened as she sniffed, her features becoming taut. "That is, disturbing," she breathed. "Thank you for informing me of this, Minerva. I will take this up with the _Spideagan_. Good night, dear."

"Good night."

The soft clicking of the matron's heels against the floor grew softer as she moved away and the lights turned off. Minerva settled back into the hospital bed as comfortably as she could while the events of the evening played out in her mind. Helena's lecture rang in her head, and no matter how hard Minerva tried to defend herself, she began to see that the Matron was right.

As noble as her morals might be, they could very well get her killed.


	49. Recovery

**Another day in this carnival of souls**

**Another night settles in as quickly as it goes**

**The memories are shadows; ink on the page**

**And I can't seem to find my way home**

~Far From Home by Five Finger Death Punch

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 40 - Recovery<strong>

**November 29th-30th, 1942:**

"Professor Dumbledore?"

Rolanda Hooch was the first to spot him enter the Common Room, and at her words, everyone else in the Gryffindor Common room looked up. The remaining students that were awake were mostly fifth, sixth and seventh years, which Albus assumed was because they had ushered the younger students to bed. He glanced around the room until he located Mikail Lutrov standing near the window, looking just as equally troubled as the rest of his Housemates.

"Professor, what has happened?" Miss Hooch urgently questioned, distracting Albus from studying Mikail further.

"Is McGonagall all right?" Septimus Weasley spoke up. "She- She wasn't killed, was she?"

"Please calm yourselves, everyone," Professor Dumbledore called, his voice overriding the multiple whispers that spurred. "You may all put your worries aside, no one has been killed. There are a few injuries, but nothing to worry about. The culprits who have been using the Killing Curse have also been found."

"But what of Minerva and Poppy, Professor? You said they were injured? Are they in the hospital wing?"

"Yes they are, and they will likely be spending a few nights there. Miss Pomfrey has a head injury and Miss McGonagall fractured her ankles. You may see them in the morning, Miss Hooch, now all of you, to bed - except you, Lutrov, I would like a word with you in the Reading Room."

Curiously, everyone except Mikail seemed surprised at his request, although Albus reasoned that the boy likely anticipated this since he had been previously interrogated by the Ministry regarding the situation. While he had revealed nothing then , something told Albus that the boy was getting tired. He wasn't certain about what, but he hoped to find out tonight.

"Sit down, lad, we have much to discuss." Albus gestured to the chairs as he closed the door behind them. He took the chair opposite of the boy and turned to face him.

"If you are going to ask vhere I vas this evening, Sir, I sent a message to the Nightingale guarding the castle tonight."

Albus blinked. He hadn't expected an outright confession, but this revelation was interesting, to say the least. "How do you know, _Broc_?"

"I did not know his name, just that he is around Minerva a lot. He confronted me the day before I transferred, to give me a varning on Professor Merrythought's behalf."

The professor stroked his cropped beard. "What did your message last night detail?"

"It vas a drawing of a secret passage I discovered near the North Dungeons. I found that it leads into the South Dungeons, vas that vhere the culprits vere found?"

He eyed the young wizard. "You are correct, that is indeed where they were they were caught."

"I knew it," Mikail whispered, sighing as Albus continued his inquisitive stare. "I know it must seem suspicious but please, Professor, hear me out. I saw someone snooping there last night and decided to investigate myself. Vhen I found out vhere it lead to, I had a good idea vhat it vas being used for. Beyond sending the letter, I had absolutely no involvement in vhat occurred tonight."

"Did you know what was going to happen?"

"Sir, I have no idea vhat _has_ happen, other than vhat you have explained since arriving in the common room. Vhen I stepped out of the Gryffindor Tower, it vas only for a minute to let my sparrow fly."

Albus leant back in his seat for a moment, searching his student's face for any hint of deception, but there was none. "This evening, Eileen Prince and Miss Louise's cat were-"

"Augusta's cat vas seen?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded, taking note of the concern that flashed across Mikail's face. "As I was saying, Eileen Prince and the cat were _Imperiused_. They lead Miss Pomfrey and Miss McGonagall to a trapdoor in the flooring that lead to the secret room that you discovered. The person that did so is also likely responsible for changing the Prefect Patrol without authorization. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"I am your prime candidate then," Mikail spoke calmly, holding Albus's gaze.

"I have one other student in mind, rest assured. You are not being targeted due to your former allegiance to Durmstrang, or because of your master. This is merely a precaution, owing to your prior Legilimency knowledge, which, as I'm sure you are well aware of, ties into using the Imperius Curse quite effectively."

"I appreciate your unbiased approach, Professor. I feel not many people vould do the same in these dark times." Mikail drummed his fingers on the table in front of him and paused several seconds before speaking again, "I received a tip that something vas going to happen 'soon', but I vas not informed vhen, or how, and I do not know who it is that gave me this information. I do, however, suspect the person you are looking for is Tom Riddle, Sir. I do not have proof, and I doubt you vill find any either. After vhat he did to Minerva, he has had developed the tendency to cover his tracks very vell."

"Yes, he does."

Mikial lowered his head. "If you do not believe me, Sir, then judge me as you see fit, but I have a clear conscience. I did not do anything to harm anyone."

Albus couldn't help but feel sorry for the lad. He had come from a school that was known for it's tyranny; where the teachers were just as cold as the castle itself, the Dark Arts were practiced freely, and the Untergang constantly hovered in their thoughts. If it hadn't been for the threat he received from his contacts before start of term, Albus would have merely believed that Mikail had come to Hogwarts seeking sanctuary.

"Chin up, Mikail, I believe you," he said jovially, hoping Mr Lutrov would acknowledge the change of pace. "However, we do need to discuss a few things about your master from Durmstrang."

Mikail's tawny eyes momentarily flickered to the side. "Vhat about him?"

"Why did Karkaroff really send you here? I need you to be as honest as you possibly can with me, Mikail. All your secrets are safe with me, none will reach Professor Merrythought, or anyone else's ears, unless you tell them yourself and, if it helps assure you, I am not above performing a Fidelius charm. I very much need to know what is going on between Karkaroff and you. There is the possibility that things will become very serious, and if that happens, then I want to be able to protect you and prevent you from getting caught in the crossfire- so to speak."

Mikail took several moments to speak, shifting his gaze between Albus and the floor with confliction written across his face. When he finally spoke, it was with a seriousness that Albus could only admire.

"If I do tell you, Professor, then I vill require you to perform the Fidelius Charm- not because I don't trust your vord, but because I simply cannot risk anyone else to know."

"Then we have a deal," Albus affirmed, stretching his hand out.

Mikail only hesitated for a second to meet Albus's eyes, before before grasping it tightly and taking out his wand to cast the spell.

* * *

><p>Horace Slughorn paced nervously around his office. Today was an utter disaster for his House, and for himself. He couldn't believe that he hadn't realised what his students w0ere doing, and so close to his office as well. They had truly proved their Slytherin cunning and the talent they obviously had would serve them well in the war, but it wouldn't help them now. Of course, he did not approve of what they had done, he'd see them off to Azkaban, especially after they attempted to kill Minerva.<p>

_When Izzy finds out about this..._ Horace shook his head and suppressed a shudder. _Let's not be hasty, now. Helena won't tell her the whole story. She surely won't be allowed to with the ongoing Ministry investigation, and I doubt she'd want to upset Robert and Cayden, but Isobel is nothing if not persistent, and she always seems to know about everything that happens here. Damn those portraits._

While he didn't know for certain, Horace had long suspected that Rowena Ravenclaw had a connecting portrait in the Manor. It wouldn't be that absurd a notion either; the Manor had belonged to the Founder and consequently to the many generations that came before Isobel. It would certainly explain a great deal of how she seemed to know more than expected.

_And Tradisi for that matter._

"Professor Slughorn, when is Professor Dumbledore going to get here?"

Horace turned around to face his star pupil. "Soon, my lad."

Tom Riddle nodded and folded his hands into his lap. "I'm sorry to be impatient, Sir. I'd just rather be studying in my dorm right now."

"I know, Tom, thank you for being so patient. This is a dire matter and it needs to be resolved. He should be here soon and as long as you have nothing to hide, it shouldn't take too long."

"Very quick, I reckon."

Sometimes, there were days that Horace suspected Tom Riddle knew far more about the goings on in this castle than he did. Sure, sometimes Tom asked strange questions and often became just a little too curious for his own good, but what Slytherin wasn't? Unlike most of the students in his house, Tom took the time to look out for the younger students, tutor them when they needed it and he was quite good at it too. Tom was a natural leader, able to inspire his peers with no more than a few spoken words; traits that would likely carry him far.

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore made his way to Professor Slughorn's office automatically while sifting through his thoughts about Mikail Lutrov and, somewhat inadvertently, Minerva as well. The information he had been given was troubling to say the least. The knowledge that Erlend Karkaroff had ordered Mikail to find the witch that the rogue Untergang sect was after, would have been alarming in itself, except that he also ordered his apprentice to<em> protect her<em>; the witch whose abilities described Minerva McGonagall in every way.

Ordinarily, Albus tried to ignore most coincidences, preferring to rely on fact and measure, however, this time it was too much to avoid. It worried him greatly that the Untergang was seeking someone who had been prophesied over two thousand year ago supposedly by the sirens. The prophecy was a song that had been sung for many years that for most people it seemed to just be a song. However, Albus was not one of those people. He knew that it was so much more. It was a prayer of strength, a vow of revenge, a promise of discovery, a lament telling of darkness, but also a spell that aided those in a near death state; the very song that the siren at Loch Ness had sung to Fawkes all those years ago.

Possibly the most worrisome part of the prophecy was the terror that the witch would have to face during her time. Darkness on a scale of great torment, peril, that which would seem to never end; Darkness that only she could break. Albus had since pondered the Untergang being this cursed shadow. Their reign of terror was nearing a century now, and at this moment they were also aligned with one of the most powerful Dark Wizards in history. If this was the case, then Albus prayed that it wasn't Minerva, despite working to prepare her to battle Grindelwald.

_All the more reason to chat with Fawkes again, and hopefully he'll be reasonable this time... Come to think of it, he's always had an interest in Minerva._

Fawkes never had enjoyed 'talking' about that day, or at least he did a good job about being so cryptic that even Albus became frustrated. He did like talking about Minerva though, which had been further encouragement to Albus whenever he had doubts about picking her as his protegee. She struggled so much against her mother's labyrinth of secrets, yet time and time again she proved capable of doing the impossible. It gave Albus all the hope and confidence that she would accomplish what he refused to do. He still found it absolutely amazing that Minerva even survived long enough for the Grey Lady to come to her aid, though. Fairing so well against that many magicians was not easy, especially given her restrictions on manoeuvrability.

"Master, might Mozart speak with you, Sir?" a little voice squeaked, pulling Albus from his thoughts just before he reached for the office door, "Mozart brings important message from Madam Nurix."

Albus turned around to see his elf's big eyes staring up at him. "Of course, Mozart. What did Helena have to say?"

"Nothing to say, Sir, just wants Mozart to give Master this."

The elf held up a piece of parchment and Albus took it with haste, deciphering Helena's hasty scribbles with ease.

_Prince found, second floor girl's lavatory, now in Hospital Wing. Drugged: evidence of Falictum-toxin and Oblivi-toxin. Continues to wail that Gryffindors were the cause, just as before. Cat belonging to Miss Louise found dead nearby. Cause: high concentrate poison, yew - for quick death. I suggest to tell Miss Louise tomorrow morning to let her get a good night's sleep. Whoever did this was very thorough, Albus. Good luck, Helena._

Albus stroked his beard as he stood in the corridor. He had been fairly certain before, but this proved the facts. Unless Mikail had a time-turner they didn't know about - which Albus highly doubted, Mikail Lutrov could not have been behind the Imperiusing. The bathroom was too far from the Gryffindor tower for him to get there and back by the time Albus had spoken to him, and with so much against the boy already, he surely wouldn't dare risk incriminating himself by making Miss Prince believe that Gryffindors had been the ones to harm her.

_Tom would benefit from this though. He was stationed near the Library and could have drugged Prince much more easily and without being suspected._

"Anything more Mozart can do, Sir?"

Albus folded the note and hid it away in his inner-robe pocket. "Might you ask Madam Nurix when Professor Merrythought will be returning, please?"

"Of course, Master. Mozart be back in a moment."

With a _**pop**_, he left Albus alone as he went over the contents of the letter in his mind. The poisons and toxins were disturbing. Students should not have the knowledge or the means to create poisons and while memory toxins were mentioned in textbooks and in the Library, the ingredients were hard to come by and the potions took several months to create.

_Either this was planned months in advance and the person had outside help, or they were stolen and the maker is someone of extensive skill. Horace __**is**__ known to leave his stores open from time to time and he usually doesn't check his inventory more than once a month… Oh Horace, you idiot._

Engrossed in his thoughts, Albus did not realise Mozart had come back until he started speaking again. "Master, Madam Nurix told me to inform you that Professor Merrythought has already arrived back, Sir."

"That'll be all, Mozart, thank you."

"Yes, Sir."

The elf disappeared and Albus opened the door. Horace was there waiting for him, as was Tom Riddle, who seemed rather annoyed.

"There you are, Albus, glad you arrived," Horace greeted, smiling jovially until he got closer to whisper, "Has there been any news about Eileen Prince?"

"The girl was found in the lavatory on the second floor with one of the missing cats."

"Was it-" he mouthed the last word. _Dead?_

Albus nodded grimly. "Miss Prince is in the Hospital Wing being treated. Could you please do a thorough inventory of your stock? I suspect someone has stolen some ingredients. By the time you return, I should be done here with Mr Riddle and you may escort him back to his dormitory."

Horace's puzzled expression was rather annoying, but thankfully he didn't argue and hastily left.

"What's this about, Professor?" Tom Riddle questioned. "Professor Slughorn kept saying that something 'awful' had happened, but didn't give me any details."

"Eight Slytherins were caught and detained today on charges of using Unforgivables against other students. There is a possibility that another person was also involved, but we have yet to find the culprit. I inquire information regarding your whereabouts while all this was going on."

"Does that mean the Ministry is leaving? The culprits have been caught?"

"Yes, Tom, it seems that all will return to normal - save for the mysterious monster, that is."

"Well that's good news. To answer your question, Professor Dumbledore, I was near the Library as you assigned. My partner can verify that." He shrugged, his expression seemingly innocent. "Question her if you must, but she will tell you the same and nothing unusual occurred while we were there."

"I'm _sure_," Albus struggled to keep his voice clear of emotion as he glared down at the Slytherin with disdain. "Might I see your wand for a moment?"

"Of course, Professor, though I assure you, you will find nothing unusual. I have nothing to hide," Riddle hissed in annoyance as he handed over the yew rod.

Ignoring the young wizard, Albus muttered_ 'Prior Incantato'_ and to his great disappointment, but not surprise, the last spell displayed was but a simple warming charm.

"Very well, Riddle," he muttered, returning the wand, "thank you for your time."

"I hope you catch the final culprit, Professor. I really do."

Albus caught a gleam in his dark eyes, one that was undoubtedly of triumph. He was now, more certain than ever that Tom was responsible for _Imperiusing_ Eileen Prince tonight. Proving that however, would be impossible as the boy had clearly covered his tracks, and covered them well. He wondered why Tom would go to such drastic measures.

_He had been rather keen to know if the Ministry would be leaving, but what would he gain from that? And why have the monster's attacks have seemingly halted since then._

"As do I, Tom," Albus stared the boy down, making his distrust known. "As do I."

Horace returned soon after with a list of the unaccounted ingredients. Just as Albus suspected, yew, poppy heads, and multiple types of mushrooms were missing; all key ingredients to the poison and the drugs used this evening.

"Horace, who helps you stocktake?" Albus whispered.

"Riddle; he's very helpful, Albus. Why?"

_Of course he is... _the deputy seethed as despite Tom's obvious ties to everything, there wasn't enough evidence to prove that Tom was the thief and final perpetrator.

"Might I suggest you keep a closer watch on your stores Horace, and ask your elf to make sure it's locked at night? I fear someone has been using it to create the toxins that were used on Miss Prince."

Horace covered his mouth. "Oh dear, oh dear. Yes, I will do that right away, Albus."

"Good night, Professor."

"Good night."

The deputy let out a heavy sigh as he trekked back to the Hospital Wing. This time it was without Minerva McGonagall's presence, although his mind certainly lingered on her as he remembered their walk from earlier. She both surprised and humbled him by accepting his apology; her ability to analyse the situation with such maturity astounded him, and her concern for other student's safety over her own was admirable. In fact, the more Albus thought about it, the more he knew that the only flaw he could see about Minerva's actions tonight was that she didn't take the initiative to take care of her own well being. He would be labelled a hypocrite if he criticised her for that and he'd be lying if he said that he was disappointed.

He smiled thinking about her surprise when he lifted her off the ground, the way her wide green eyes dazzled and mouth parted a centimeter. He was quite certain that she hadn't noticed that her hair had almost come loose from it's pins and that it had had curled around her shoulder, framing her face perfectly. Albus couldn't help but be thankful that she would be in the hospital resting for a few days. With both of her ankles fractured, she wasn't going anywhere which meant no time turner, and that was a blessing. Sometimes Albus wondered if he worried too much about her, but he always dismissed those thoughts. Minerva was his protegee and he had every right to worry about her well being.

Albus's hand curved around the gold handle of the Hospital wing door as he swung it open, revealing Helena, Galatea, and Nathan. The trio were discussing the events of the night in the center of the ward where they had Summoned what looked like all the furniture from Helena's informal conference room for their leisure while the two Scots were sipping on a glass of wine that Albus could smell all the way from the entrance. He assumed that they had placed a silencing charm around them, allowing them to talk freely without the fear of waking Helena's patients.

The Nightingale Captain, looking rather worse for wear, was pacing behind a sofa where the matron sat. He knew she had been tired before her leave to headquarters, but now those dark circles under her pale blue eyes were deeper and a much darker hue, telling of the many hours of sleep that Galatea did not receive this weekend. He had no doubt that more than a few of those hours were lost due to her incessant worrying and prayed that his colleague would be able to sleep a little better now the culprits behind the Killing Curses had been detained.

Nathan seemed rather comfortable lounging in a recliner with his legs draped over the arms and his back leaning against the other. As calm and relaxed as he portrayed himself to be, Albus could tell that he was still trying to recover his nerve. There was no doubt in Albus's mind that he had been tormented with thoughts of failing to protect Minerva; he had grown rather fond of her over the past few months of watching her from the shadows.

Helena was, as always, a mix of both of them. Sitting on the couch, she gazed into a peculiar glowing silver sphere in her hands. Her expression seemed to indicated that she was relieved, but even from so far away Albus could see the fear that swirled in her eyes.

"I still don't understand why they were patrolling the dungeons in the first place," Galatea asserted. "I thought Minerva was assigned to the Great Hall; and Poppy was at the Grand Staircase as well, if I remember correctly."

"If I may interrupt," Albus cleared his throat as he drew closer, "I believe I can answer that."

"Hello again, Albus," Nathan greeted. "Care for a drink? Helena here still refuses to touch the stuff."

"That'll do nicely," he replied as Helena rolled her eyes.

"Really,_ Broc_, it's not the end of the world!"

"To not enjoy such a fine tasting drink that the earth has provided should be a crime!" the Scot muttered as he hopped out of his chair and stepped towards the conjured table they surrounded.

"Come off it, old friend," Galatea glared at him while trying to hide her amusement. "You know why she does not drink."

"Fine, fine," Nathan held up his free hand, gesturing his surrender as he filled the empty glass, handing it to Albus with a wink. "'Tis always useless to argue against women, anyway."

Albus chuckled as he sipped the malt. The moment the liquid touched his lips, he understood where Nathan was coming from. The sweet but heavy drink made his tastes buds buzz with euphoria. "What is this?"

"MacGilleMhoire Muscat malt, or more commonly known as the Morrison Muscato," Galatea answered softly, her crystal eyes staring at him. "It is from the vault my mother inherited."

"Ah yes, from the Morrison Clan winery, no doubt. It's delicious."

"I know," Galatea replied flatly. "Now please answer my previous question before I grow impatient for the fourth time this evening. _Why_ were Minerva and Poppy in the dungeons?"

Albus took another sip before speaking. "Someone managed to change the Prefect's order, deliberately moving Minerva's post."

"So you kept the order relatively the same in hopes of catching the culprits," the elder witch inferred, her eyes growing darker as her thoughts churned.

"That is correct. I believed that whoever had done this had most likely wanted Minerva out of the way, thus I stood guard with Mr Lemars at the Great Hall instead; but to be sure, I wanted Miss Pomfrey with Minerva, thinking that they could keep each other safer should something arise. Had I known what awaited them, however I would have taken a different path."

Galatea held her hand up. "I do not think anyone could have predicted this outcome, Albus. Not even myself. I have no doubt that I would have done the same in your position."

Helena whipped her head around, her left hand curling tighter around the glowing orb as she faced her partner. "I can hardly believe you just said that."

The elder witch didn't respond. She quietly walked over to where Minerva lay and stood beside the curtain looking down at the young heroine. Nathan, however, turned to Helena did.

"Really, love? _Foal _sends her best friends, her brother, even _you_ out to battle the Untergang, and ye're surprised about this? Minerva is a damn good fighter for her age, one of the best I've seen since _Faol_."

The matron was about to retort when Galatea muttered quietly, "Possibly better than I was, actually."

"Well, I wouldn't say da-" Nathan blinked, then looked up at his leader, and friend. "You really think so?"

Her crystal eyes were still locked on Minerva, but Galatea nodded without hesitation.

"I'm fairly certain that she would've made a fair match for myself, as well, _Broc_," Albus added, causing the Scotsman to whistle and lean further into his chair.

"If there was any Prefect that I would send on a potentially dangerous patrol, Helena," Galatea's voice strengthened as she continued to elaborate her opinion, "it would be Minerva without a second thought, no matter how much I love her. Just as ye're the best, and frankly the only, healer I can rely on to hold her ground while keeping the members of my team from greeting death." The elder witch stepped back towards the group, letting the curtain fall back into place. "'Confidence, bravery, intellect, maturity; everything a fighter needs', to quote my father. She has all that, not to mention her skill, power, and sheer dumb luck."

Helena's lips thinned as she gave Galatea a look that Albus knew as the _'we'll be talking about this later' _glare before she turned back to the group, "Still, we should be thankful that the Grey Lady intervened when she did."

"We're lucky she even deemed it important enough to take notice of with how bloody apathetic she is," Nathan grumbled, then asked, "_Faol_, you never did tell me how you managed to convince that high-headed ghost to watch over Minerva."

"The Grey Lady has a deeper connection with Minerva than she likes to admit."

"Deeper than being the Ghost of the House which Minerva is descended from?"

"Much, much deeper, but that is beside the point." Galatea finished the last few drops of wine and placed the glass on the table, then sat next to Helena. "I was told you questioned Riddle and Lutrov, Albus. Were they behind this?"

"I suspect that Riddle _Imperiused_ Prince and Louise's former cat, but-"

"And Poppy," the matron added, glancing at the silver glowing sphere. "After hearing about her actions tonight, I fear she must have also been _Imperiused_ to follow Miss Prince as she did, perhaps in order to force Minerva to run after them all, and cause her to practically fall to her death."

His heart rate doubled in concern for his student. "I thought you said it wasn't serious."

"I made it seem like it wasn't. I stated that it was nothing potions and magic couldn't fix, and while I wasn't lying, I was only referring to Poppy's wounds. With Minerva nearby I didn't want to worry her as the truth is," the lines on Helena's face softened with her voice, "had Minerva not grabbed her and prevented her from falling the full twelve feet, Poppy would have surely died."

"Did you tell Minerva this?"

"No, and I don't plan to. It seems that, yet again, Minerva has saved someone she loves from certain death. That's three times now," Helena's beady eyes flashed at her partner, "if not four. Far too many times for her age, and I believe it disturbs her more than she lets anyone know. At any rate, if Poppy doesn't show any responses before dawn, then I fear the worst."

Dread twisted Albus's stomach. He had hoped Poppy would come around while he was out, after all it had been some two hours since she fell. "Surely Fawkes could-" he stopped his suggestion when the matron shook her head.

"Even if he did shed his tears, it wouldn't solve the problem. While her brain is recovering adequately, the trauma she's suffered..." Helena took a breath, fighting to keep her voice steady. "You know phoenix tears only heal physical wounds, not the psyche, Albus. They can't re-sync her soul with her mind and awaken her consciousness. No spell can do that." She seemed to sink into Galatea's embrace as she rotated the orb within her fingers.

Albus drummed his fingertips on the arm of the chair, trying to think of solutions. _There is one. Well, not a spell precisely, but it might work in this instance._

"What if I entered Limbo?"

"_Limbo?_ Merlin's beard, Albus, you know there is a reason nobody enters that damned place willingly. They hardly ever come back!" Nathan interjected. "Spend too much time there and you'll leave the physical plane altogether. Besides, you can't guarantee that yeh will be able to get Poppy back."

"I understand the risks _Broc_, but I am Pomfrey's Head of House, and furthermore, I am responsible for the state she's in."

"No you're not. The bastard who Imperiused _my_ apprentice is," Helena growled. Her eyes peered into his and conveyed their shared worry, "and while I am very touched by your willingness to sacrifice your life, I would rather not chance your fate just yet. _Broc_ is right, you can't guaranteed that you will be able to save Poppy. The only way such a method could work effectively is if both participants are close to one another, which you are not and neither is Galatea. Let us wait for another hour or two. In my experience, there are times when patience and a few silent prayers are the best thing, and while I detest doing so, this is definitely one of those times."

"And if she doesn't come around?"

Helena's hands shook at the weight of his words. "Then may the Gods have mercy on my soul, for while I want Poppy to live, I could never permit trading her life for another's," she paused to steady her voice. "Such actions always tend to come full circle, one way or another."

Albus caught Helena's free hand squeeze Galatea's out of the corner of his eye. It was curious why she felt the need to do so. Clearly it had something to do with past experiences, but he had a hard time imagining what it could be.

"I think it best that we return to my original question, Albus," the elder witch suggested.

Albus bobbed his head, filing away his thoughts for further pondering. "As I was saying, I suspect that Riddle is responsible for the _Imperiusing_, but alas, I cannot prove it. He covered his tracks well."

"Nothin' a few drops o' Veritaserum won't fix."

Galatea sighed, "While I sorely wish that were possible, _Broc_, unless the Minister herself deems it so, it is illegal to use truth serum on a minor. If Albus cannot prove it, then Evangeline will dismiss the threat and forget all about it."

"More like she'll hope we'll handle any further trouble that spurs from it," Nathan hissed.

"Did I tell you I got her to confess?" The elder witch crossed her legs and placed an arm around Helena's shoulders.

The Scotsman leaned forward onto his chair, suddenly energized. "Ye're joking! How on earth did yeh manage that?"

"I got on her bad side, and had a little bit of help from Minerva."

While Nathan chuckled gleefully, Helena was clearly not so pleased. "Yes and to the point that she threatened you for it!"

"Pfft!" Nathan rolled eyes eyes. "As if there's anything dear old Evangeline could say that could keep _Faol _quiet."

"Actually," Galatea whispered while running her fingers over Helena's shoulder, "there is."

Albus's eyes widened, and although he was curious, he wasn't about to ask how the Minister could keep Galatea Merrythought silent, but Nathan did away with the wonder immediately.

"Oh, ye're talkin' about the night-"

"Aye, the night I let my parents' murderer slip away," the elder witch interjected.

Albus noticed the mood of the room instantly darken as Nathan bowed his head and Helena squeezed her partner's hand. He knew the topic was one that caused Galatea great distress, but he had no idea that the incident was a black mark on ex-Auror's record.

Nathan growled, "I thought Minister Spavin ensured yeh that file would stay black."

"That was before I decided to keep the Nightingales running against the Ministry's wishes. Clearly Spavin advised Evangeline to keep me on a leash if need be. You know how politicians are, always wanting to ensure that they have control over every blasted thing they can."

"Well yeh could always fire back."

"Our loyalty oath,_ Broc_. We can't abandon that."

"Damn that fucking oath,_ Faol,_ we made that almost forty bloody years ago and under a completely different administration! We're talkin' about Evangeline using the Nightingales for her own benefit! The press is still wantin' details for over half the shit we did in our first ten years as Aurors, and," Galatea stiffened as Nathan went on, "they're especially keen to know what happened regardin' yer missions to Azkaban's Gate, Albania, Vladivostok's Fortress-"

"No!" the elder witch shouted, startling everyone. Her reaction reminded Albus of the day he asked her for advice before entering the Dark Forest of Albania and brave the Dragon Cliffs to find a mythical dragon.

During the final quarter of the 19th century, it was common knowledge that the Ministry was sending their Aurors to investigate and put an end to a string of Dark Magic incidents in Eurasia. However, details of the missions were highly classified material. The common conspiracy was that the Ministry itself was responsible for whatever horrors that had been unleashed. To add fuel to the fire, the Aurors who were involved either went mad, went into hiding, or gained great fame - which only added to the public's suspicions.

When Galatea had emerged from her mission in the the Dark Forest of Albania, she came out a hero. The forest was strictly forbidden because anyone who entered and didn't resurface after three days were never seen again. Yet Galatea became the exception when she emerged victorious from her mission on the seventh day, which was why Albus sought her advice specifically. She had been open about giving him survival tips and some brief training, but the moment he had asked anything specifics regarding her mission there, she snapped at him.

"No, I would rather not, old friend," Galatea's soft spoken voice brought Albus back to reality, "as disclosing such events would likely be viewed as treason, especially with the state that the Kingdom is in." She sighed heavily. "We might not even need to fight those barriers, though. There will be enough questions about why a Nightingale was at Hogwarts in the first place and why the Ministry wasn't defending Hogwarts themselves. The public will start asking those questions and form their own conclusions." Galatea turned her attention back to Albus, who'd been watching the two interact with fascination. "So what about Lutrov, Albus? Are you certain the boy had no involvement tonight?"

Albus opened his mouth to reply, but found he needed to rethink his answer. His thoughts whirled around their secret conversation, searching for a way to reply.

_What can I say? The boy is being used by his master, and Mikail knows it, he just doesn't know Karkaroff's motives and intentions. Are they for good or ill? Karkaroff is Grindelwald's right hand advisor, Durmstrang's Legilimens master, the Untergang's Recruit Overseer. Whatever he's up to it won't be good, or simple. There's so much that needed to be done. So much that needed to be investigated and verified._

"Albus?" Helena's voice snapped him from his thoughts. He blinked and glanced up at his friends and colleagues that were staring at him. "Are you still with us?"

_There's a reason everyone thinks you're mad, you fool._

"Yes, forgive me, I was lost in thought," Albus flashed a smile of gratitude at Helena, then returned his attention to impatient crystal eyes. "Mikail and I had a good chat, Galatea, and I can assure you, he is not responsible for this. I can say no more than that though."

The witch pursed her lips and gave him a long, hard look that made Albus feel like he was her pupil all over again, before she sighed in submission. "Oh very well, I'll drop it..."

Albus could hear the unspoken _'for now'_ lingering on her lips, and was very grateful that Helena decided to change the topic as it eased the tension in the room.

"_Broc,_ I've been meaning to ask," Helena shifted slightly in Galatea's embrace to face Nathan, "how did you reach Minerva before Albus and I? I have been trying to figure that out for hours. Fawkes didn't teleport you in the room did he?"

"I only wish the ruddy bird had, he would have saved me about five or six minutes of anxiety while I ran around the castle tryin' to find them girls," Nathan huffed, his body tensing at the memory. "There's another entrance near the North Dungeons and it's without a surprising and potentially deadly drop, I might add."

It didn't take much for Albus to pretend he was hearing this information for the first time. He stroked his beard, matching Nathan's story with Mikail's as Helena continued. "How on earth did you find it?"

"Let's just say I have a contact. I don't know for sure who it is, but they've given me quite a few tips over the course of this year, including the alley where those cats were found. He, or she, sent me a letter this evening."

"Might I see it?" the deputy asked this time.

The wizard pulled a folded piece of parchment from his inner robe pocket and tossed it to Albus with just a bit of magic, enabling it to fly directly to the deputy. "It's a drawing of where the opening is and the long passageway that leads into the room. They even added how to trigger it open."

Albus nodded as he gazed at the parchment. The first thing he noticed was the easily identifiable smell of ink - ink that the knew could only found in Moscow's Wizardry market; and the second was the distinguished mark on the left corner. To the untrained eye it looked like a sideways shield, with a cross in the middle. Albus had to force himself to keep his face straight. His trust in Mikail had not been misplaced.

"Might I see it?" Galatea asked, her gaze transfixed on the letter like a hungry wolf stalking it's prey. When she caught the parchment, the elder witch held it close to her face, sniffing deeply. Her expression suddenly grew very dark and dangerous. "I've smelled this ink before."

"Oh of that I have no doubt," Albus muttered. He really should have kept his mouth shut, but sometimes he really did enjoy being cryptic. Where was the fun in life, if one didn't take it's advantages and create some entertainment?

Helena's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Just a theory," he lied as he conjured a comfy chair to settle in.

"You are not the only one who uses that line, Albus Dumbledore," Galatea glared at him. "Your eyes twinkled in that damn mischievous way that you know I detest. You know something. Start talking."

"I'm afraid I cannot, Galatea, even if I wanted to, but I can assure you, _Broc_, that your contact is a person with good intentions." Albus took another drink of the delicious wine, partly to hide his amusement and partly to ignore his colleague's piercing gaze. "What we really should be talking about is what we're going to do with the culprits and this 'E.K' figure. Minerva wondered if it might be Erlend Karkaroff, Mikail Lutrov's master."

"Yes, Helena expressed as much. It is a puzzling matter; on the one hand, I would not expect Karkaroff to use his initials, it is far too obvious," Galatea elaborated. "However, on the other, these foolish imbeciles clearly wished to join the Untergang," she paused, before letting out a sigh. "Terror is what they do best, and by Merlin, they would have no trouble achieving that if they made it known that even Hogwarts is'nae safe from their tyranny."

Nathan shook his head before finally downing the rest of his wine. "If it is Karkaroff, then what shall we do with Mikail Lutrov?"

"I will do as I see fit, the boy is in my House after all," Albus interjected. "No one will lay a hand on him without my permission, I do hope that is clear."

Galatea raised her hand, signalling a truce, "I assure you, Albus, I had no intentions of doing anything."

"Shit!" Helena suddenly jumped up from the settee, dropping the crystal orb in her place, and bolted to where her apprentice lay with a speed and agility Albus hadn't seen since _Dealg_ had attacked her.

The other three looked from Helena then back to the glass orb, which was slowly turning red and it's contents beginning to dim. Albus still wasn't precisely sure what the sphere was, but he could infer from Helena's demeanour that it was synced with Poppy's condition. Judging by Helena's reaction, things had just taken a turn for the worse.

"Oh Gods, she's having a seizure!" Galatea whispered as she quickly snatched up the orb and moved to Helena's side. Albus and Nathan followed quickly, moving closer to Poppy's bedside in case they were needed. As the matron began filling a rather muggle looking injector with a potion, Poppy's shaking worsened, turning into the most horrific of convulsions.

"Hold her down!" Helena barked as she removed the applicator from the bottle. "I can't inject her while she's thrashing like this!"

They did as ordered and Albus was quite thankful that Poppy was a lean witch, for her body put up a valiant fight against them. Amazingly, it only took Helena one try to inject her apprentice's neck accurately, no doubt thanks to decades of experience. It took a few minutes to work, but the potion seemed to do the trick. Poppy's body calmed and the three of them could let go and catch their breath.

Galatea returned the glass sphere to Helena, now with it's brightness returned. The matron bit her lip as inspected the sphere, which was still red at the centre. She released a sigh, smoothing Poppy's hair back. "Galatea, if you would, go to my special stores. I'm going to need two 15 and 30 percent morphine induced painkiller potions, and one 50 percent."

"50? Helena, you hardly ever go that high."

"I know, but if- _when_ she wakes up, she will be in a lot of pain and I would rather be safe than sorry."

Albus watched as the elder witch gazed at her partner, apparently rooted to the floor for a moment with sympathy swirling in her eyes. Galatea took a step forward and cupped Helena's cheek, gently turning her face as she leaned in and kissed her partner. She whispered a few Gaelic words, then went on her way. Whatever was said seemed to fortify Helena. She wiped her eyes then turned to Albus.

"If Poppy doesn't wake up soon, her seizures will continue and she likely enter a coma."

"What can we do?"

"I can give us time before her next seizure and minimize the effect, but it won't last long. I hate to say it Albus, but I think our only option is Mikail Lutrov."

Albus stiffened, "No, absolutely not! That would be putting two students-"

"He's very close to her and has Legilimens knowledge! He can bring Poppy back much more efficiently and safely than even you, Albus!"

"It doesn't change the fact that it's endangering his life."

"Don't give me that, you did the same this evening. Damn your Gryffindor pride, or your need for redemption - or whatever the hell you're feeling, and just _think!_ It would take you and hour if not more. We don't have that time, Albus! We're talking about Poppy's life! Mikail is much younger than you, he'll have far more time in Limbo than than you will!" Helena's grey eyes misted again.

"Easy there, love," Broc murmured, pointing to the glass orb. Albus watched, suddenly mesmerised by the full spectrum that was shining from within.

Poppy murmured something incoherent, which was followed by Helena's gasp, "Poppy, wake up! Can you hear me, darling?"

Her eyes lazily opened. "Min?" Poppy whispered, sound very disorientated.

"No dear, it's me, Helena. You're in hospital wing, everything's fine- no, no! Keep your eyes open, love! Don't go back asleep on me. Can you talk to me, Poppy?" Helena illuminated her wand and flashed before Poppy's eyes. Albus and Nathan exchanged looks of mutual fear as a moment of silence passed. "Darling, can you hear me?"

Poppy uttered a soft groan. "My head..."

"I know, I know, dear," the matron lowered her voice, stroking the hair from her patient's face. Three potions appeared on the bedside table and Helena immediately grabbed one. "I'm going to give you something for the pain, all right?"

Helena's apprentice merely mumbled as her eyes continued to flutter and tears of pain leaked from her eyes. Fifteen minutes passed before Poppy could do more than mumbled very short answers. Helena eventually succumbed to using a small dose of the highest grade painkiller, but it did the trick. Poppy, while drowsy and numb, was able to carry out a conversation. She was more than worried about Minerva than any of them expected. Apparently while she was unconscious, she had been able to hear some of the conversation between her friend and the Slytherin attackers, but Albus and Galatea assured her that Minerva was just fine.

Thirty minutes later, Helena announced that the threat of more seizures had passed for the young witch and that she would make a full recovery.

Mind, body, and spirit.

* * *

><p>"When do you plan to see her?" a voice echoes softly.<p>

There was a pause before another voice, distinctly Scottish, whispered back. "After breakfast, I need ta talk with _Ath-sgal_ and the Minister again."

"Is there a date for the trials yet?"

"The first three will begin tomorrow."

Sleep still clouded Minerva's mind and she kept her eyes shut, but she was able to identify the voices as Helena and Galatea. They were close by her, probably just beyond the curtained area of her bed.

"That soon?" Helena asked.

"The Ministry wants to get them prosecuted and in Azkaban before someone can stage a rescue."

"And _Ath-sgal_?Is there much enemy chatter?"

"A hell of a lot, and she's not the only one picking up on it. The Ministry is all over it as well." Galatea exhaled a frustrated sigh as her voice hardened. "I swear, Helena, if Karkaroff- or any Untergang member for that matter -shows their face tomorrow, these trials will descend into chaos. There will be widespread panic, even riots, if the public see that, and this is _exactly_ what they want, Helena, to throw the Wizarding World into chaos!"

"Calm down, _gaol_ [love], and have some faith. With the Nightingales combined with the Ministry, even if they do turn up, the Untergang is bound to fail."

"Only if Evangeline takes the threat seriously," Galatea muttered.

"I don't think she can afford-"

"Psst, Min, are you up?"

At the sound of Poppy's voice, Minerva's eyes instantly snapped open and she rolled over, immediately wincing as pain shot through her legs. It was completely bearable though with the happiness she felt upon seeing her sister awake. Poppy was lying in her bed, looking sideways out of the corner of her eyes, but not turning to face her.

"Poppy! I'm so glad to see you're awake!" she exclaimed. "How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy, sore, my head hurts and I'm tired." the apprentice grumbled as Minerva adjusted herself to lie a more comfortable position. "Helena put me in a body bind so I can't move anything but my arms, and she hasn't let me go back to sleep since I woke up."

"How long ago was that?"

"About one in the morning, I think," Poppy's voice grew more laboured. "She says I'll be able to go to sleep soon, though. How are you?"

"A little sore, but nothing compared to what you're experiencing, I imagine. Did she tell you what happened?"

"Actually, Professor Dumbledore did. He watched me for an hour until Matron Sana could arrive. I don't remember much of last night, but I do remember hearing voices- well, _the_ curse mainly… I won't forget that in a hurry." Remembering how close she had come to being struck by one, Minerva shivered. "He told me we're both very lucky to be alive, said you faced six opponents."

"It would have been eight if Avery hadn't switched sides at the last minute and stunned Umbridge."

"You're kidding!" Poppy exclaimed, chuckling softly. "Sweet Merlin, trouble just follows you everywhere! You know what everyone's going to be calling you again, right? Marvellous Minerva!"

Minerva cursed under her breath, she hadn't even thought of that. "Yes, well, another good reason to look forward to the end of term. Most people will be busy studying."

"That's true." Poppy's smile faded, "I should probably tell you, I'll be going home tomorrow afternoon. Helena wants me resting in a quieter, more relaxed environment than the Hospital Wing."

"For how long?"

"A few weeks, just until mum and dad leave for Sweden to get my aunt to the States," her voice dipped again. "They can't postpone that and I don't want them to, but I'll still be confined to the hospital until January at least."

The way Poppy was talking concerned Minerva. Either she was tiring quickly, or she was worried about something. "You don't sound too happy about going home."

"Really?" Poppy frowned. "I guess I'm just worried about leaving Mikail. Professor Dumbledore assured me that he isn't a suspect, but nevertheless, I wouldn't be surprised if Professor Merrythought will be keeping a much closer eye on him."

Minerva opened her mouth, but shut it quickly, deciding that it would be better not to tell her about 'E.K.'. She was a little surprised that Dumbledore was so convinced of Mikail's innocence, but she didn't question him. She did, however, worry about Mikail's loyalty to his Master, a man who was Grindelwald's advisor and perhaps most importantly, the Overseer for Untergang recruits.

"Could I asked you to look out for him, Min?" Poppy's voice broke through her thoughts. "I know you're skeptical of him, but, if nothing else, you need him for your memories."

Minerva had to give her friend credit, she knew how to drag her into something she wasn't keen on; but she did have a point. Without Mikail, she wasn't going to get her memories back.

"All right, Poppy, you have my word, but I'm not doing this just for me, all right? I want you to get better, love, and you're certainly not going to do that if you're stressed."

Poppy's tired hazel eyes sparkled. "Well, unlike you, I'm not stubborn as hell, so that in itself will help me recover faster."

Just as Minerva huffed, the curtains opened and Helena stepped in.

"Good morning, Minerva."

"Good morning, Helena."

The matron looked at her apprentice. "Poppy, love, you can sleep now. You've stayed awake long enough."

"I think I can manage to stay awake a little longer," Poppy smirked, "I'd like to see how you get answers out of Min."

"Whatever you learn, it won't work for you, Poppy," Minerva flashed a glare at her sister, "I've known you too long."

A smirk appeared on both healer's faces as they shared a glance.

"It's always worth a shot," Helena muttered, turning to look at Minerva with a very serious look in her eyes. "Tell me, how are you feeling? And don't give me a short one word answer, I want the truth, _all_ of it."

Minerva held up her hands in surrender. It was too early in the morning to be interrogated. "I'm all right. My ankles are a little sore."

"What's your pain on a scale from one to ten?"

"About four? Nothing compared to how they were last night."

Helena nodded, passing her a potion and casting a diagnostic. "You'll probably be here for about six days, five if you continue to heal well and obey all of my orders. I have already talked with your Professors so you don't need to worry about that."

Minerva nodded, then swallowed the potion which tasted so bad that she had force herself not to gag.

"Galatea will be here after breakfast. Also, you should know that the doors are being locked due to the mass of students wanting to see you," Helena grumbled the last part with the utmost disapproval.

"When will you allow me to see anyone?"

"After you've eaten properly, I suppose I can let your friends in, but I don't want _anyone_ disturbing Poppy while she sleeps. Is that understood?"

Minerva couldn't help but smile at Helena's defensiveness towards Poppy. "Yes, Madam, I'll make sure of it. How did Galatea take the news last night?"

"She's thankful that you're all right, let's leave it at that." Helena replied, then turned to leave before suddenly remembering, "Oh and I should probably mention, your father will be here at noon."

Minerva's brows rose. "Alone?"

"Yes, I think so. I hear that Cayden and Isobel were be gone today, she's taking him somewhere. I'll have an elf bring your breakfast in five minutes, and Poppy, if you're still awake..."

Both of them turned to look at the witch, only to realise that she was already fast asleep. A smile turned the corners of their mouths, both happily content to watch her dozing peacefully, and thank the Gods that they were still able to do so.

* * *

><p>Galatea and Professor Dumbledore stopped by separately to see her after breakfast, and while their conversations were short, Minerva enjoyed each visit immensely. The elder witch stopped by first, and to Minerva's great relief, she didn't lecture her about her actions the night before. They simply talked, openly and honestly, which was relieving after the harrowing ordeal and then Helena's lecture. It was very reassuring to hear Galatea express how proud was, especially when she made sure to tell Minerva not once, but twice. Minerva easily noticed that her mentor seemed rather tired; a glaze formed over her crystal eyes every now and then whenever she tilted her head. She seemed to lose focus on the conversation like Professor Dumbledore did on occasion. At the time, Minerva thought it was because the elder witch was lost in thought, but after she had gone, Minerva realised how absurd that was. Galatea was usually completely focussed, on whatever she was doing.<p>

Professor Dumbledore had turned up as Galatea was leaving. He had less to say, which was probably for the best because the moment Minerva looked into his eyes, she remembered him picking her up and carrying her to the Hospital wing. The feeling of his hands wrapped around her waist, so strong and sturdy; the twinkling in his eyes as he looked down at her; his smile, and the way his voice vibrated in his chest and echoed in her ears as he carried her through the halls...

Her stomach fluttered at the memory and she had to fight to keep herself from blushing. It wasn't as if he hadn't done that before. He had grabbed her in a similar fashion when he had protected her from the exploding feathers. Why was this time so different?

_Nothing,_ she told herself over and over._ Nothing is different. You're delusional and your body is just hormonal. There is nothing different._

She didn't have to hide her thoughts for long, though. When Professor Dumbledore revealed that Oscar had been found dead last night, the blood in Minerva's veins chilled. Had it been Mico, Minerva knew she would be devastated, and her heart felt heavy for Augusta. She was thankful though, that he personally reassured her that Mikail wasn't behind this, something she was grateful for, in the wake of her promise to Poppy. Just before he left, he awarded her 150 points for her bravery, which brought a small smile to her lips. Gryffindor was now in the lead for the House Cup.

Before her father arrived , Helena had reluctantly given in and allowed Rolanda, Mikail, Augusta and Kevin, as well as Pomona and Hestia, to visit Minerva; then later, Septimus Weasley and Emmeline Vance, whom Minerva made sure to thank for providing her with a 'distraction'. Malcom and Hagrid arrived a little later, the big Gryffindor passing Minerva a large bouquet of flowers and a card, while Malcom quietly wished her a speedy recovery. He seemed moodier than usual and Minerva had a hard time imagining why. She really hoped the other students were not bothering him because of her actions.

Not long after Malcom and Hagrid left, did her father walked out of Helena's office, talking quietly to the Healer. They cast a quick glance at Minerva and exchanged polite smiles, before Robert came over to her and Helena went to check on Eileen Prince.

"How are you feelin', Minnie?"

"I'm okay, Papa. How are you?"

"Thankful that you're alive," her father sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"How much did Helena tell you?"

"I am quite certain that she did not tell me everythin', but it was enough for me know that I should be thanking God for looking after you once more. It was a brave thing yeh did, protectin' Poppy by holding your ground until help could arrive. I'm so very proud of you, Minerva, and so is Cayden." Robert smirked as amusement flashed across his face. "You should have seen him this morning when I told him what you did, he started stompin' around the house, declaring he was going to be a hero just like his big sister. You've got quite the little admirer, you know?"

Minerva giggled, which turned into a laugh as her father joined in, until her smile faded and an ache took hold of her heart. She missed her little brother terribly. "Will you tell him that I love him, please? And that I'm very sorry I can't be home for Christmas this year. I'll be sure to send him his present in time, along with everyone else's."

"I will," he nodded his head.

She searched her father's face for a moment, trying to read the strange look he had, but she decided to voice her concerns anyway and hoped he would be truthful. "You're really not angry that I won't be attending?"

"No, darling. I'm angry at other things, but not you."

"Màthair, then?"

Robert's gaze faltered for a moment as he sighed. "Not even at her, really. As hard as it is to be mindful of it sometimes, it really isn't your máthair who is the one doin' the most harm. I can often get her to come back to me without much effort, but as of late, it's... grown more difficult." Minerva tried not to hear the tremble in his voice as he continued, "She told me what you asked her last time you spoke. You wondered if she had a mental disorder, and knowin' her, I doubt she answered you at all. Well ye're right, partially. It's a magical thing, though, and it causes her to become a completely different person. I'm sure you've noticed, even with your limited time with her, that her sanity is wanin'."

"Yes, I certainly have," Minerva muttered, reflecting on past conversations and memories. "Papa, when did she began to slip?"

Robert frowned as he inhaled deeply. "That... is a difficult question to answer, even for me. It has been so very subtle perhaps from the time when you were born, but in the past few years it's become worse. Sometimes it seems as though the things she does are out of madness, which it's not, and that's why it makes it so hard to judge."

She pursed her lips at his reply, remembering her recovered memories. "Papa, do you know the real reason she abandoned Helena and Galatea?"

"No, I do not," he replied, sadness lacing his words. "We will have to talk more about this later dear, over the summer I think." Robert clicked his tongue. "Speaking of which, I'm planning on visiting my family's grave site in August. I'd like you to join me, just the two of us."

"I would like that a lot, Papa."

"Good," he nodded, "good. We can talk about my side of the family as well, I feel you're old enough to know what happened between them and I. We'll have a good time. Now," Robert rose from the bed, "I best be gettin' back, Cayden and your mother will be returning at any moment. I hope you are feeling better soon, dear. Send me a letter- and make sure you have Galatea send it."

"I know Papa."

"I know you know," he kissed her forehead, then searched her eyes for a tender moment, before leaving the hospital.

The warm feeling that her father had brought with him faded as Minerva watched him go. All she was left with was her remorse and pain. She was certain that, had she the ability to do so, she would be fighting tears at the moment. Minerva waved her hand to close the curtains and let the feeling of loss wash over her. She damned the Untergang, as for once in her life, she just wanted to be able to go home and spend time with her family. She missed Malcom, Cayden, her father- and despite everything she had done -even her mother. Minerva wanted to see if she could get something out of the woman who had supposedly once loved her; something that could help her solve the mystery that was her life.

But that wasn't going to happen, not this year at least. If Isobel continued to decline at the pace she had been, then it wasn't going to be next year either, or the next.

Or the years after that...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Why yes, yes I did make a chapter that had more Albus than Minerva in it ;) As always, I hope you enjoyed; and for those returning to school, I wish you good fortune for this term.**

**Also, MacGilleMhoire is the Scottish Gaelic version of the surname "Morrison". I didn't exactly explain this because I felt it wasn't realistic for Albus to suddenly remember something he already knew - it's really awkward to write...  
><strong>

**Next time: "Snow"  
><strong>


	50. Approaching the Brink

**Profession of a Guardian**

**Another day in this carnival of souls**

**Another night settles in as quickly as it goes**

**The memories are shadows; ink on the page**

**And I can't seem to find my way home**

~Far From Home by Five Finger Death Punch

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Apologies for the major delay. I had to hack through a stubborn writers block. Enjoy a long chapter again :D**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 41 – Approaching the Brink<strong>

**November 31st, 1942:**

Her mind was fuzzy from the pain killer. The room spun as she gazed up at the ceiling and there was a faint echo to every sound she heard. Sometimes she wasn't sure if she was really hearing it or not. However, there was one feeling that Poppy knew she wasn't fabricating; the warmth of Mikail's hand and how smooth his thumb felt as it brushed over her hand.

They hadn't talked much. Poppy was tired, and frankly the echo running through her ears and in her head was borderline painful, but they didn't really have much to say to each other anyway. What they wanted to communicate, they did through touch. Mikail held her right hand in both of his and kept it clasped with a gentle firmness. Occasionally he pressed his lips against her hand for several moments and she could feel the air flutter over her knuckles as he breathed through his nose.

It was entirely too relaxing. She wished she could have this exact moment day after day for the next two weeks instead of lying in bed at home with her parents' fussing over her. While Poppy loved them dearly, she was needed here at Hogwarts with Mikail, her sisters, Augusta, and Helena.

_Hopefully I'll be too tired to really notice the time pass by…_

She felt Mikail move their joined hands away from his face and bend her arm towards her as he leaned in closer.

"Dumbledore knows," Mikail's deep accented voice softly vibrated in her ears, making her flinch a little as it echoed.

"Of?" she whispered back.

"Everything."

Poppy frowned, wishing she hadn't heard him say that so clearly as a spark of anger and jealousy burned in her chest. "Does that include what you refuse to tell me?"

"Regarding Minerva - yes," he answered with a bit of hesitation and delicately paused between words to allow her to hear him without difficulties. "I bound him to a Fidelius Charm."

"Why can you tell him, but not me?"

Mikail sighed, his grip on her hand tightening as he delayed responding for a minute. "I find myself doubting my master's intentions. Dumbledore thinks Karkaroff tried to recruit those Slytherins into the Untergang; not only that, but Minerva thinks he may have sent me here on her mother's behalf - to do exactly vhat I am doing; restore her memories."

_So that's why Min was so persistent the other night! Blast her stubbornness, she should have just told me…_

"What do you think?" she asked, and heard him swallow as she waited patiently for him to respond. Braving the nauseating spinning that warped her vision, Poppy cracked open her eyes and glanced at him. "Mikail?"

The wizard muttered something unintelligible, then breathed heavily, "I do not know. I am very confused."

Poppy thought 'tormented' was probably the more accurate word to use, but she didn't comment. She carefully moved her free hand and cupped his cheek. To her surprise, it was wet with tears.

"What will you do? Have you talked with him?"

"I cannot reach him, though I only tried once. I vill have to lay low for a vhile to keep Merrythought off my back. I have no doubt that she vill be keeping a closer eye on me than before." He paused, taking a deep breath, no doubt trying to collect his thoughts again. "I am sorry, I have vorried you. I did not mean to. You need to rest and your parents vill be here soon."

She desperately wanted him to stay longer, to open up and explain further, but she knew he had other things to do.

"Write to me, please?" Poppy pleaded, fighting off another wave of nausea as she watched him stand up. "Maybe have Rolanda send your letter with hers, if needed? If anything just to keep me occupied while lying in bed for two weeks?"

"Of course, though I should probably ask you, how vill you read it?"

"I'll have my elf relay it to me in private. Are you afraid of what my parents might think?"

"Russian's are not exactly viewed as trust_v_orthy right now- but that is not vhy asked."

"Well why did you then?

"You shall find out," he replied, leaning over to kiss her and making her giggle before disappearing from her side.

**December 1st, 1942:**

Albus Dumbledore stood outside the Wizengamot, guarding the doors fighting off the urge to pace in the very dark hallway. It was still early and the sky was dark, the bitter cold chilled his bones. He was very anxious to get this done and over with. Macnair, Lestrange, Goyle, and the Carrow twins were all being charged today, and as long as there was no Untergang intervention, the trails should move quickly as with the amount of evidence their fate seemed set in stone.

After the last trials had gone off without a hint of mischief, Albus was concerned about today. The first three hearings had been set as a test to see if the mysterious 'E.K' and the Untergang would show. The fact that they hadn't caused tensions to rise. Security was as tight as ever, but with multiple Wizengamot guards along with several Aurors and Nightingales- including Galatea Merrythought herself -all in attendance, everything appeared to be completely under control. The Minister was clearly taking no chances - especially with the members of the press. Reporters had been banned, even those from the _Prophet_. The only way anyone would find out what went on in these chambers was if someone were to speak about it publicly. Albus was extremely glad that all Wizengamot members had been charmed to ensure that it was impossible to do so.

It all seemed foolproof, and that should have calmed him, except he had learned long ago that such plans always seemed to go wrong.

The soft patter of an animal's paws against the marble flooring caught his attention. Albus turned his head, witnessing Galatea Merrythought emerge from the shadows as she transformed back into her human form.

"Morning," she greeted him, her voice like steel.

"Good morning, how does everything look?"

"It is deathly quiet and there are storm clouds on the horizon." The elder witch put her hands on her hips and she scanned the area around them twice over. "The perfect calm before the storm."

Albus copied her and as he looked up, he spotted Nathan squatting on top of a pillar near the ceiling. It was the perfect vantage point should there be an attack and he made a mental note to commend Nathan for it later.

"How high is your anticipation for an attack today?"

"99 percent," her eyes flicked up to where Nathan was stationed, then back to Albus, "and that's without a Seer's knowledge. With it, I am completely convinced."

He arched his brows. "I am afraid you have me quite baffled, my dear. Since when has Galatea Merrythought relied on a Seer."

"Not _relying,_ just verifying the threat level and using other sources to ensure that proper measures are being taken to prepare for the necessary risk," Galatea quipped defensively, "which has also involved the Minister and myself dulling the culprits' memories of the night they were captured and tricking them into a Fidelius charm. They can never reveal _Duil_'s name, or anything about her, should they escape."

"Impressive."

"Yes, well, we shall see just how impressive our battle strategy is against the attackers, and between you and me," she lowered her voice even further, "I am not so confident."

"You have been fighting them for over fifty years, Galatea. I do not think there is anyone who could better prepare us for an attack."

A strenuous sigh escaped her chest. "Believe me, old friend, no one can ever be prepared enough when facing these-" her speech halted and before Albus could look around, Galatea fired a spell at the pillar Nathan was perched on.

For a split second, Albus wondered if the witch had gone mad, until he heard the tell-tale sound of a body slumping to the floor.

The Untergang was here.

"_Seinn gu glòir _[Sing until glory]!_"_ Galatea shouted as streaks of light soared towards them.

Albus arced his wand from the ground to the sky, casting a powerful Shield Charm as spell after spell crashed into the magical wall. Galatea flicked her wand in a practiced motion, exploding a pillar to their right and toppling it over, just in time to intercept the flurry of knives headed their way. Albus shot several quick spells through the dust before grabbing Galatea and hunkering down behind the fallen pillar as Nathan took his turn and hailed a series of curses at the enemy from above.

He postulated that there were at least six in this main hall, and depending on how skilled they were, the three of them together could handle this lot with minor difficulty. But Albus knew that they would not be here alone, and the question of how many there were in the other corridors was worrying, especially since the Untergang excelled at close-quarter combat.

* * *

><p>"I cannot believe they only gave Avery two months!" Amelia commented as she and Rolanda tore through the grounds on their morning run together. The bitter cold air rushed around them and nipped at their nose. Even though the ban on Quidditch had been lifted, they continued running in the mornings.<p>

"The Wizengamot pardoned Umbridge, deeming her _'under influence of the Imperius Curse'_, why is it so surprising that they were lenient on Avery as well?"

"Umbridge is younger and _appears _more innocent, and while they're both pure bloods, Umbridge's father is a Wizengamot member and one of the Minister's top advisors. Avery's father, on the other hand, is merely a respected textbook publisher and a very private man. Avery may have aided Minerva in the end, but he still committed the crimes. It doesn't help anyone by letting him off easy, I don't understand the reason behind it, unless..." Amelia's eyes widened and she slowed to a stop, "ahh, yes. That has to be it."

Rolanda put her hands on her knees, breathing heavily as she looked sideways at the Ravenclaw. "What does?"

"The Ministry gains nothing by locking him away for the rest of his life; not a young wizard with his cunning and ability. They must have discreetly offered him a position in MEAR in exchange for a life sentence in Azkaban." Amelia pulled the elastic band from her hair and combed her hands through her bronze locks with a scowl. "A smart move for the war effort, but an atrocious policy for enforcing the law."

Rolanda bobbed her head. "Hopefully we'll get a different sentence for the five others this time."

"Yes," Amelia said, tying her hair back up and stretching her legs, "hopefully."

* * *

><p>With two enemies chasing them from behind, Albus and Galatea were also racing after two in front of them and towards the entrance chamber. As it would turn out, their opponents were far more skilled than Albus anticipated and were likely the Untergang's top elites. He had completely lost track of where Nathan was by now, but he couldn't worry about that.<p>

Albus flicked his wrist and cast a rope that looped around one of the enemy's feet. The Dark wizard tripped and nearly brought down a second man, until Galatea finished them both off with two quick Severing Charms. The footsteps of the two pursuing them halted. In a split second, Albus burst into flames, transforming into his Animagus, and teleported both of them, narrowly avoiding a new barrage of knives.

They reappeared behind their attackers and Galatea blasted the wizard on the left off her feet, but the witch on the right resisted the spell, along with the stunner that followed. Albus's chest constricted with fear as he realised the witch was a Disruptor - the Untergang's elite anti-magic soldiers. He had been right.

Jets of light were flying everywhere, screams of pain and triumph echoed all around them. Albus caught a glimpse of Fawkes transporting Helena to a wounded Auror.

"You take out the left," Galatea barked as her opponent charged, "I shall deal with _this_!"

Obeying orders without question, Albus fired double Stunners at the Untergang wizard scrambling onto his feet. Both narrowly missed as his opponent avoided each spell with a quick acrobatic move. Using quick and fluid movements, Albus sent whip-like ropes of water that lashed at the wizard's feet and froze the water that splashed on the floor. His opponent jumped to avoid them, but skidded down the ice towards him. Their spells collided, exploding into each other with a loud _crack_.

Spell after spell, the seconds ticked by as Albus concentrated on blocking his opponent's vicious onslaught and ripping through his defences to disable his footing. He was skilled,_ very_ skilled, and Albus was becoming more and more annoyed as the Dark wizard apparated in and out of the room, jumping through other duels and challenging Albus to to do everything he could to avoid friendly fire. As he pursued, Albus leapt past a wandless _Saighead_ slitting an Untergang wizard's throat with his steel kunai and threw him against the wall, nearly knocking over Albus's opponent in the process. Taking advantage of the distraction, Albus charmed the nearby curtain to wrap around him, forcing his opponent to concentrate on shredding it.

"Albus!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Galatea toss a javelin in his direction, before grabbing her own opponent's hand, preventing her knife from gutting her. Whirling his wand around his body, Albus redirected the spear straight at his opponent's chest. Anticipating that his opponent would try to block the spike, Albus began to cast a petrifying charm.

Yet just as he was the middle of the wand movement, the Dark wizard did something entirely unexpected. Instead of trying to protect himself, he brandished his wand. At Galatea.

Albus watched on in horror as the captain snapped her opponent's neck and tilted her head up in time to hear the words, "_Avada Kedavra!"_

* * *

><p>Spells flew back and forth across the corridors, whizzing past her and just narrowly missing her face. The shadows were everywhere. Hissing, laughing, cursing. At her pain, her fear and her determination.<p>

She called for Galatea, trying to find her through the smoke and the noise, but no answer came. Every which way she looked, more shadows came - more faceless beings of ash and hellfire. She fled down the halls, firing spells over her shoulder, but it was useless. Wave after wave, they kept coming like an endless ocean. Faster and faster, she ran until she felt like she was flying, except now there was a ceiling, and two walls that pinned her to the ground.

The enemy had lead her into a trap.

Knives cloaked against magic came at her in every which way. Minerva summoned a stone shield, however it shattered into pieces after ten of them nailed into it. She fought off so many more with blood, sweat, tears, and a plentiful amount of magic, until she was overwhelmed with exhaustion. She called for her mentor again and again, but there was no answer.

The shadows had her now.

A knife in her back caused her to fall to the floor. Broken and unable to move, she lay on the ground, dying alone as her enemies left, their laughter echoing in her ears. As they moved away, gentle fingers weakly brushed against her fingertips and Minerva looked up to see Galatea dying beside her. The light in her pale blue eyes diminishing with every breath she took.

Tears welled in Minerva's eyes as she strained to grip Galatea's hand, whispering, _"Seanmhair…"_

Yet, when she finally managed to grasp the woman's hand in her own, there was nothing there. Darkness instantly filled her vision as everything disappeared. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing that she was in the Hospital wing. There were no shadowy beings, no knives being thrown, and no spells being cast. In fact, the sun was just beginning to creep through the room. Eileen Prince was sleeping in the bed across the room and the two petrified students were in the beds further down the room.

It was Wednesday and Galatea was at Wizengamot for the last of the trials.

It was just been a nightmare. She hadn't failed.

_Not yet... There's going to come a time, though. I can't keep everyone safe. _Her breathing grew heavy at the thought. She sniffed, steeling her heart. _Stop. It does no good to contemplate what cannot be controlled._

"Miss McGonagall?"

Minerva looked across the room and towards the Matron's office where Matron Sana stood in the doorway, gazing at her with concern.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered without thinking as she peered behind the healer and into Helena's empty office. Minerva couldn't remember her saying that she'd be gone. "Where is Madam Nurix?"

"She is out."

"Is she with Professor Merrythought and Professor Dumbledore at the trials?" Minerva asked, ignoring the terse reply.

Matron Sana gave her an inquisitive look that told her that the conversation was over. "Madam Nurix will be gone all day, McGonagall, but where she went is strictly confidential."

Minerva refrained from sighing as she looked way. Either the matron had not been informed where Helena was going, or she had been forbidden to tell anyone; both cases were maddening.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Breakfast will be here for you soon, McGonagall. Rest now."

She nodded and obeyed orders, though the mere mention of food made her stomach churn. She was definitely not hungry at the moment.

* * *

><p>Time seemed to slow down as a desperate cry of a phoenix rang in Albus's ears.<p>

Before he could move a muscle, the deadly chartreuse light shot through the room, only to be met with a blinding burst of flame.

Instead of the Nightingale Captain falling to the floor, a tiny phoenix-chick did, and a surge of overwhelming pride and fear coursed through Albus. He sprinted towards them, scooped up his friend, and apparated to where Helena was taking cover. A blue bolt narrowly missed his shoulder, prompting him to turn his body sideways to keep Fawkes out of danger as he animated a nearby statue to deal with the attacker.

The Untergang's numbers were beginning to dwindle, but Albus knew theirs were as well. He could see three Ministry guards laying lifeless on the floor and he had passed an Auror while running through the corridor from before.

He placed Fawkes beside the preoccupied matron, when he heard _Eidheann's _voice over the din.

"_Faol_, the prisoners!"

He peered over the barricade to see that they were indeed getting away, so he nodded to Helena and set himself to race to their aid when Galatea shouted, "Let them go! Focus on the pack!"

Before anyone could even contemplate why Galatea ordered them to let the Slytherin's go, every Untergang member in the hall apparated to join the former students that were being led away. Several Anti-apparation jinxes were fired, but it wasn't enough. All but one managed to dodge the onslaught and disappear, and he was quickly dispatched after _Saighead_ threw his final kunai.

With the exception of Fawkes's chirping, silence descended on the room as they contemplated the aftermath. Many were staring at Galatea through the smoke and haze. Her greying hair had come undone, her bruised and bloodied hands were still gripping her wand, and her dark blue tartan robes were in tatters. Yet, despite her current state, having almost faced death, along with the outcome of the battle, when she turned to face them, she wore the fierce mask of a leader - one that even Albus was inspired by.

**December 4th, 1942:**

Minerva was at her wits end being cooped up in the Hospital Wing. Two days ago, Helena allowed her to finally get out of bed and walk around, but Minerva had still been confined to the ward. She had been made to take things slow then, and yesterday she had absolutely no troubles and saw no reason that she should have to stay today or tomorrow for that matter. Minerva was partly convinced that Helena wasn't keeping her here for medical reasons anymore though.

Ever since the day that the five Slytherins were supposed to be put on trial, not a single newspaper had been seen in Hogwarts and many students, especially those with relatives working for the Ministry, had received letters from their parents telling them _not_ to come home over the Holidays. Galatea had only stopped by once since then and had been just as stubbornly reluctant to discuss those events as Helena was. According to Rolanda, the rest of the Staff were being just as secretive and much more intolerant of misbehaviour. Mikail had even been sent to Dumbledore's office by Professor Merrythought, but apparently Dumbledore sent him away before he set a foot in the door and the two Heads of House had been arguing.

It seemed clear to Minerva that the Slytherins had indeed escaped, and if that had happened, it was plainly obvious that the Untergang were responsible, which was causing her to worry. The former students knew who she was, what she had managed to accomplish, and thanks to Malfoy, they also likely knew that Galatea had been giving her lessons; something the Untergang would likely take note of.

_But would it be enough to confirm the myth, that's the question. _Minerva closed her eyes, trying to calm herself and think with logic and reason. _No need to get in a __panic __just yet. Galatea probably took preventive measures to ensure my safety, and if she hasn't said something already, then there should be no immediate danger._

_Right?_

Turning her head towards the window, Minerva got up and walked slowly over to it. She pressed her hand against the glass, wiped away the condensation that fogged up the glass and peered outside. Minerva would never admit it to anyone, but since the mysterious Seer had spoken to her several weeks ago while visiting Helena at St Mungo's, she'd been keeping a close eye on the weather. Despite temperatures being lower than normal, it was unseasonably dry this start of winter.

_"Miss McGonagall, believe me when I say that, when the snow falls, it would be disastrous if you leave your sword behind."_

In her father's most recent letter, Minerva knew that Caithness received a light dusting a few days ago, but nothing had happened, which made her realise the ambiguity in the Seer's warning.

_She never did say where the snow would fall. What if it snowed somewhere else in the world when I found the trap door? Without the sword, I wouldn't have survived. Maybe there's no threat anymore. Maybe it's all over._

A strange animal's cry sounded throughout the room. It was almost cat like, but Minerva couldn't be sure. She looked around the Hospital Wing, but couldn't find anything. She heard it again, accompanied by an all too familiar _thud thud thud thud _of a feline pawing at the Hospital Wing door. Glancing towards the office, she knew Helena wouldn't approve of animals being let in, but Minerva decided to investigate anyway. She was very glad she did too, for when she opened the door, a brown tabby with big blue eyes, and a stubby tail that jerked back and forth, looked right up at her.

"Hello there, Mico," she instantly smiled and bent down and picked him up. "How on earth did you get up here?"

The handsome feline provided his mistress with no answer as he squirmed and struggled to get closer to her, letting a mighty purr that sounded more like a roar from his throat. He stuck his claws in near her shoulder, forcing her to hold him at her chest, and immediately began fiercely rubbing his head against hers. His paws danced over her the fabric of her robes, kneading with such force that it seemed as if he never wanted to let go. Minerva was almost taken aback by Mico's determination, but the moment she smoothed her hands down his spine, he snuggled even closer and calmed down. She frowned, acknowledging his change in behaviour as she continued to pet him, and noticed a distinct loss in his weight.

"Mico?" Augusta's worried voice preceded her as she dashed through the hall towards them. "Oh thank Merlin! I'm so sorry, Min. I have no idea how he got out! He hasn't been very peaceful with anyone and has been in a state since, well-"

"It's all right, Gusta," the dark haired witch tapped the tom on the nose, "I think he needed to get out." A sorrowful look flashed across her friend's face and Minerva immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry I couldn't save Oscar."

"It's not your fault, Min." Augusta swallowed, keeping tears at bay. "Besides, as much as I wish he could be here, I'm glad Poppy's alive. We have to focus on the good in no-win situations."

Minerva nodded, agreeing with her wisdom. "I know it's soon, but have you thought about going to Diagon Alley and adopting another companion? It might make grieving a little easier."

"Mum and Dad suggested that, but.. I don't know. I want to, however I would rather wait for the Monster to leave before doing so. Even if it wasn't the cause, I would rather not risk it." Augusta sniffed, then seemed to shift away as if she wanted to leave and seemingly forgetting about Mico before spinning around dramatically and turning back to Minerva.

"Oi I forgot! I was going to tell you that Michael Thomas was asking about you again," Minerva felt a little uneasy at that thought, but didn't have time to think properly on it as Augusta continued, "Oh it's not like that, Min! Absolutely nothing suspicious, so put that out of your mind," she scolded. "What I meant was, he is taking an _interest_ in you."

The green-eyed witch looked down at Mico and scratched his ears. "Yes, well, everyone seems to be doing that these days."

Augusta rolled her eyes. "Don't act like it doesn't mean anything to you! You and Michael seemed to get along quite well after the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw match." She put her hands on her hips, flashing her friend a glare. "Did he, or did he not, practically sweep you off your feet on the dance floor before you fled?"

"He twirled me around with a surprising amount of grace and confidence, I will admit, but he certainly didn't _'sweep me off my feet'_." Minerva turned walked behind Augusta to close the door, hiding a faint smirk from her lips as she finished her sentence in her head. _Not __quite so literally like __Professor Dumbledore did anyway._

A half-smile quirked Augusta's lips. "I think you're in denial."

"Rubbish."

"_Or-_" the blonde witch jabbed her finger at Minerva "-you have someone else on your mind."

Minerva tried to hide her snort, but it was no use. "Augusta, I don't think I have heard anything so amusing as that this entire week! I told you before, my responsibilities come first, I do_ not_ have time for courting or anything remotely frivolous!"

"That doesn't mean you can't feel something for someone." Augusta's blue eyes glistened as she smiled with a distinctly smug look of triumph, prompting Minerva to sigh. She could easily shut down Augusta's bliss with a few sharp words, for there wasn't a single shred of truth to it, but she knew it would be cruel to end her friend's happiness right now, especially with the tiny throb of guilt in her heart.

"You are not going to give up, are you?"

"Nope!" her friend grinned. "I've got you figured out, Minnie-Kitty. Whether you believe it, or not, I have you!"

"In your dreams, dear," Minerva muttered lightly, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. She really did hate that nickname. "Thank you for stopping by, and for unintentionally letting Mico visit, but it is getting late and you should be heading back."

"Yes, she should, along with you," Helena interrupted, walking up behind them.

Mico clung tightly at Minerva as she spun around, hope surged up inside her at the prospect of freedom. "You're letting me leave?"

"Well, I cannot allow your cat to stay here and it doesn't look like he is going to let go willingly, so I suppose I must concede defeat."

Grinning broadly, Minerva took out her wand and banished her textbooks to her dorm. She couldn't wait to march through the halls again and breathe in the fresh air.

"On one condition," Helena glared at Minerva, "the minute you experience any sort of pain, you must come straight back to me."

The green-eyed witch hooked her arm around Augusta's and began steering them out of the Hospital Wing and to her freedom, calling over her shoulder as they left. "I will!"

"Do not make me hunt down Miss Louise or Miss Hooch if I begin to suspect anything, d'you hear?"

"Yes, Madam!" she called behind her, waving happily as she left Helena, along with her worries, behind, for the time being at least.

The moment she arrived in the Gryffindor common room, the entire House seemed to want to see her. Mico made a mad dash up to her dormitory before she could say anything, so she did her best to wave off the many questions. She caught Michael gazing at her, but didn't pay him any extra attention. She thanked her housemates for their concern, and praise, but eventually she had enough and practically had to order them to get back to studying. Of course, not everyone left. In fact, much to her displeasure, Michael actually came forward.

"Hey," he greeted with a smile on his face, "I bet you're glad to be out of the hospital."

She held her agitation at bay, after all, he wasn't doing anything especially annoying. "Well most people are, aren't they? One starts to lose their sanity after being there for more than a couple of days."

The wizard smirked. "I know the feeling. Say, um, Minerva," he shifted a little, "I was wondering if you would like to maybe join me in Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

Green eyes flickered away. It wasn't like he wasn't an attractive young man, for he was, but Minerva couldn't bring herself to say yes. "I appreciate the offer," she returned his gaze now, "but since I have been in the hospital for the past few days, I will be spending the day studying in the castle instead."

"Oh, right, of course." Michael flushed, "I should have realized that. No problem, maybe next time then."

"Possibly," Minerva murmured, walking away to join Rolanda and Augusta at the bottom stairs.

"Well?" Augusta asked, seeming to deliberately avoid Minerva's gaze as they marched up.

"Well what?"

"Are you going with him to Hogsmeade or not?"

"I am not going to Hogsmeade at all because in case it slipped your mind, our exams are in three days. I _must_ study," she replied sharply. Her friend huffed and shook her head and muttering under her breath. Minerva pursed her lips as suspicion rose in her mind. "Gusta, you're not trying to set me up on a date with Michael Thomas are you?"

"Uh..." again, she avoided Minerva's gaze, sending the dark haired witch into outrage. She grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her to a halt.

"Augusta!"

"Oh come on, Min, lighten up! You're the only one out of the five of us who hasn't been out with a boy- or at least _someone_ -yet."

"Whether or not I enter a courtship with anyone is _my_ business and mine alone! I would ask you kindly to do yourself a favour and stay out of it!"

Augusta waved her off with a playful scoff. "It's not like it matters anyway, you're far too stubborn to take a day off your school work and live a little!"

Minerva held back a frown. She couldn't deny her quest to achieve top marks, but she wasn't sure if she liked this growing stereotype her housemates had of her.

_I__f it keeps Michael at bay __though__, surely it __can't be a__ bad thing then.  
><em>

But despite her thoughts, Minerva couldn't decide if she was afraid of Michael pursuing her, or whether it was just annoying. No matter the case, she would never admit her feelings on the matter to anyone.

**December 7th, 1942:**

Monday was rather a quiet day. Students were busy taking their exams and studying for future ones that there wasn't much mischief about. However there was something heavy in the air, something solemn about this day in particular. Just one year ago, the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor.

All through the day, many whispered their memories of when they heard the news. Most talked about how happy everyone had been, after all the Americans had finally agreed to join the war that seemed to doom both worlds. Yet as always when talking about such a tragedy, there were those who whispered about the tears shed, or didn't talk at all. Galatea Merrythought was one of the latter. She was very noticeably silent as the historic day passed them by.

As Minerva took her Defence Against the Dark Arts exam, she couldn't help but glance up at her mentor. Galatea seemed uncharacteristically content with not having to teach today, and although Minerva was able to concentrate on her exams, her thoughts would occasionally drift towards that fateful day. She remembered with clarity of the conversation Galatea had shared with her, particularly her comments about Matthew Larcille. When the sun had fallen, Minerva caught the professor in the hall after dinner, her eyes were glazed over and she didn't appear to be paying much attention to anyone. The Gryffindor contemplated it for a moment, then against her better judgement, she decided to follow her mentor in her Animagus form.

The fact that Galatea did not realise Minerva was following her after a while was concerning, considering how uptight and cautious the professor had been this past week. It prompted Minerva into thinking how on earth that the death of one man, an American Specter named Matthew Larcille, could seemingly cause Galatea to act so unusual. All Minerva knew about him was that he met Galatea in 1895 and had grown very close to her, until something of clear importance occurred. Knowing what she did now, Minerva could deduce that Matthew might have helped Galatea in her quest for avenging her parents, which would greatly explain how they became close.

_Perhaps they were __even __linked __romantically?_ Minerva wondered, distantly trailing the woman up another flight of stairs. She felt a little bashful contemplating her mentor's past love life, but Galatea's behaviour was highly unusual.

Minerva had held back questioning Galatea about him in the past year was that she was unwilling to make her mentor upset. Something told her that this was a topic she should tread carefully on. She remembered Galatea had saying that she failed to capture the murderers because she let her emotions get the best of her, and wondered whether those emotions had been tied to Matthew somehow. With Galatea's refusal to talk about him, and her parents death, Minerva had a strong inclination that it was very possible; which would make it furthermore impossible to get her to talk about it.

However, she was curious, and frankly growing nervous at what it could have possibly happened. The tabby rooted her paws to the floor and watched as the professor continued walking up to the fourth floor. She didn't enjoy the idea of investigating such a personal matter behind Galatea's back, but it was time for answers, and the only way Minerva could think of was through the Library.

With one last heart felt glance at the sombre witch, Minerva fled in the opposite direction and transformed before she reached her destination. Once inside the library, she found the latest edition of _The Famous, Infamous, and Honourable Aurors of the British Ministry of Magic_ and flipped to the _'M'_s. The profiles were listed from date of birth, rather than name, which was helpful because there were many Merrythoughts listed. She had known that the family had been Aurors for generations, but she never imagined that the family was actually one of the first Auror's the Ministry ever had. Minerva had to fight to keep herself from just sitting down and reading about the entire lineage as she flipped to the latest Merrythoughts.

_**Mavrick Merrythought**_

_Born; 25 November 1762 - Oxford, England, UK  
>Active period; 1785-1862, 1868-1893<br>Died; 7 September 1893  
>Pure-blood<em>

_Despite being __described as a nonconformist in political and social matters, Mavrick Merrythought did follow the steps of many __of the __wizards in his family and became an Auror. He was a Ravenclaw through and through; cold, calculating, yet not without compassion and empathy. Merrythought's sharp intellect and dueling __prowess __made him a prime candidate for the Ministry's elite warriors. Merrythought first gained accreditation as an Auror __after __killing a Norwegian Ridgeback, and __was __known __as __one of the most lethal duelists of his time. He worked solo for many years until __he was __being __partnered with his future wife, Elayne Morrison, in 1849. __Their __partners__hip __developed and grew, __and __they __married in 1858. He and his wife __were confirmed dead after __a mission investigating sightings of Dark witches and Inferi in the Scottish Highlands __went bad__._

Minerva flinched at the thought of Inferi being the cause of their deaths. She had heard gruesome, nightmare-ish tales of Inferi which did nothing to curb her dark thoughts. She absolutely could not blame Galatea for being unable to speak about her parents' deaths. After clearing her thoughts, Minerva continued reading from the passage.

_Merrythought was the founder of the Highland Orphanage for Magical Children, and co-founder of the Merrythought Trust with his wife, Elayne Merrythought. His file states that his patronus had been a wolf at one time, but changed __sometimes later__. Mr and Mrs Merrythought had a daughter _(see: Galatea Merrythought)_ and adopted a son, both of whom __also __became Aurors._

_**Elayne Merrythought (neé Morrison/MacGilleMhoire)**_

_Born; 30 March, 1816 - Ness, Isle of Lewis, Scotland  
>Active period; 1837-1862,1868-1893<br>Died; 7 September 1893  
>Pure-blood<em>

_Hailing from one of Scotland's most famous Highland Wizarding Clans, __Elayne __Merrythought was the first Scottish witch to complete the Auror programme. Despite her top marks and __impressive __skill, Merrythought faced fierce opposition __from those within the Ministry due primarily to her sex__. __I__t was __only after __former Ministers Artemisia Lufkin and Ottoline Gambol __publicly __declar__ed__ their support __for her __that the board of Aurors __eventually __allowed her to complete her training._

_E.__ Merrythought had an incredible affinity for __disguising her appearance and __stealth, which undoubtedly aided her __through the __trials to become a full-fledged Auror. Merrythought __was __also the first married witch t__o continue to serve __when she married her long time Auror partner, Mavrick Merrythought __in 1858__. The couple perished whilst on a mission investigating Dark witches and Inferi in the Scottish highlands._

_She and her husband were progressive activists and helped improve life for orphaned magical children __in their native country of Scotland__. __Elayne __Merrythought __wa__s the founder of the many Morrison Clan scholarships and apprentice programmes __and was also the __co-founder of the Merrythought Trust for the Highland Orphanage for Magical Children._

The age difference between Elayne and Mavrick was mildly surprised. Both of them sounded like fiercely independent people, so for them to have settled, married and ultimately become parents, they must have formed a close bond. So close, in fact, that Mavrick's patronus had changed, and Minerva had a sneaking suspicion that it had become a nightingale.

As Minerva scanned down to Galatea's profile, it occurred to her that Gregor was not among the listed, nor was his name mentioned, despite being an Auror himself. She couldn't decide whether this was because he was not a Merrythought by blood, or whether it was simply because he had yet to do something the authors deemed of note.

_**Galatea Merrythought**_

_Born; 9 September 1863 - Ness, Isle of Lewis, Scotland, UK  
>Active period; December 1883 - September 1899<br>Retired from service; January 1900  
>Pure-blood<br>Registered Animagus_

_Known __as one of the most powerful Aurors of her time, Galatea Merrythought __has __repeatedly prove__n__ her prowess in dueling Dark wizards during an age where the Ministry was laying war against the Dark Arts. __I__t was due to her exceptional performance that she completed her training six months early. Merrythought won high accreditation when she entered the infamous Albanian Dark forest on a classified mission. After three days, __she was presumed __dead, but __when __she emerged alive on the seventh day __she was cemented in history as one of the Ministry's best Aurors._

_When her parents (Mavrick and Elayne Merrythought) were killed, G. Merrythought launched into a six year hunt __for __their __killers__. She __shocked the Wizarding World when she __retire__d__ at the turn of the century and took __up the position of __Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she now resides. G. Merrythought's wand is known to be made of cherry with a dragon heartstring core. __It is thought to be__ one of the most lethal wands __ever__ created._

Minerva frowned with disappointment. There wasn't a single reference to Matthew Larcille or the Nightingales. Realistically, she knew that the likelihood of any information on the Nightingales would be slim, especially as Galatea's involvement was still very much a secret, but it was nonetheless frustrating. She pulled the _Notable Specters of the American Legion of Magic _off the shelf and flipped through it, hoping the elusive wizard was among the listed. Thankfully, she was not disappointed.

_**Matthew Larcille**_

_b. January 22nd, 1859 - Albany, New York  
>d. December 7th, 1941<br>Pure-blood_

_Born to an aristocratic Wizarding family, Mr. Larcille became a Specter in 1871. Larcille is most notably known for forging a three-way alliance between the British Ministry's Aurors, the American Legion's Specters, and the vigilante group called__ the '__Nightingales' in 1895. The alliance was forged to __facilitate an __information __exchange__ in order to __help all three branches __increase the effectiveness of a century long crusade to purge Dark organizations, namely the Untergang. The alliance proved highly effective, but was broke__n__ in 1901 by the __elusive __Nightingale captain. __Post 1901, __Larcille led a life devoted to training future Specters, __and spent time __purging Dark magic cults __throughout the U.S.__ He, along with ten other Specters, died in the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941._

She remembered briefly reading about the Ministry's crusade, but most of the events listed had been described so vaguely in their textbooks that she had not managed to garner more information about them. Professor Binns had been no help at all either, seeing as he never liked talking about the history that happened after his death. It disturbed her that such an important piece of history hadn't been included in any book she had read so far. Such an alliance was historical to say the least; and there must have been a serious reason for it to have been broken. Minerva wondered if the dissolution of the alliance correlated with Galatea's retirement, especially since it was only a year after she left her position and she was just beginning her career as a professor.

With this in mind, Minerva struck out to find a wizenclopedia. She knew that the information she'd find would be condensed, but it was a good place to start. She hauled out the large _M-N_ and _T-U-V_ books and opened them to the pages she wanted.

_**Nightingales**_

_Formed in 1893, the Nightingales are a group of vigilante wizards and witches __all of whom stand __against the terrorist group, _'the Untergang'. _They have allied with the British Ministry of Magic and the American Legion of Magic in the past, but __after refusing a dissolution order __in 1901, they have maintained their independence. It is believed that their base resides somewhere in Britain, but __any specifics are unknown__._

_To this day__, the leader of this group remains anonymous. It is known that she is a witch, but her appearance __is __a mystery, for she is known to Transfigure her features. The Untergang has, on multiple occasions, claimed that the ex-Auror__, now __Professor, Galatea Merrythought is the Nightingale's captain; however __each of __these accusations __were proven false__ by the Ministry._

Minerva frowned in disgust. The lack of detail was entirely disappointing. _But if the group was being protected by the Ministry it would make __more __sense,_ she thought. Except Minerva knew better, the Ministry couldn't be protecting the Nightingales, not after everything she had witnessed, and especially after learning that they had defied the Ministry's order to dissolve. Such an act made them all but short of being enemies...

Then a thought struck Minerva's heart.

_Maybe that's precisely why there isn't more __information__... The Ministry wouldn't want the Nightingales to become notorious, so they would keep this all quiet. Yes, that would __definitely __explain Galatea's hatred for the Ministry and __more specifically __Evangeline a great deal..._

Holding onto that thought, Minerva flipped through the _T-U-V_ book and found her other objective.

_**Untergang**_

_A Dark magic terrorist organization with origins in Eastern Europe and Russia. It is unknown exactly when the group was formed, but they have been __a notable faction __since the Romanov dynasty took Russia's throne in 1613. They have been a prominent force of terror throughout history and, despite the efforts of many, they __have never been__ completely __eradicated__. The leaders of the Untergang remain a mystery, however it is thought that there __is __more than one. They have been described by the Ministry as "barbaric wizards with no __conscious thought __except to kill."_

_Etymology note: "Untergang" translates as "downfall" in German._

"That's all?" she whispered quietly, scanning the rest of the page, and then the next, in some vain hope that there would be more. Most sections in a wizenclopedia were at least half a page long, but this was hardly a paragraph.

_Where's all their history? Why were they labelled 'terrorists' in the first place? Where's more information about their leaders? What about their battles against the Ministry and the Nightingales?_

Minerva almost slammed the books shut in disgust. She hauled them both back to the shelf and grabbed another wizenclopedia by a different publisher, but after a few minutes, she found that it was just as vague. Frowning, Minerva immediately set out to scour the Library for more information with feverous determination. Searching the 'U' shelf in the _Contemporary History_ section, she expected for find a book with the title _'The Untergang; A History of Shadows and Terror'_ or something of the like, yet there wasn't a single book to be found. Cursing under her breath, she trekked across the Library and found _'Dark Magic Organizations'_, which did at least mention the terrorist group, it was even more enigmatic than the wizenclopedias.

A haunting suspicion began to grow in the back of Minerva's mind when she began to find the same frustrating situation as she looked for information on the Nightingales and the crusades against Dark magic in the 1800s. It was as if they had all been deemed not worth mentioning.

Flipping through another book, she began to grow angry with the same conundrum blocking her search, until a small piece of parchment fluttered out from the pages. Minerva snatched it from the air and noticed the scribbled writing.

_Access code: UNT-865625_

She was just getting around to wondering what the characters meant, when she noticed a face staring at her through gap in the shelf. It startled her, but she held her nerve and remained alert until she realised it was only the Librarian.

"You won't find anything else, Miss McGonagall," Mr Shanks spoke quietly. "You're not the first to scour this library, searching for that particular information."

"But this is the Hogwarts Library," she whispered, "it's supposed to be one of the top archives of Wizardry and Muggle knowledge alike! It is absolutely absurd."

"No, no, not absurd," his eyes darted back and forth as if worried about being overheard, "'tis quite predictable actually. The Ministry likes keeping their secrets under their control."

"Are you saying that the Ministry is behind this?"

"I'm not implying anything of the sort," Mr Shanks protested, "I am merely advising you, as I did your mother, to search in _their_ archive instead."

Curious as she was that her mother had searched for the same information, there was one gaping problem that prevented her from moving forward. "Forgive me, Sir, but one must have an-"

The librarian nodded towards the parchment and it clicked. The writing on the parchment was the access code into the Ministry's archive.

"Sir, why are you doing this for me?"

"Because every student who tries to investigate this topic in particular, can't let it go. Your mother was one of them, and so was your grandmother, come to think of it."

Minerva's interest instantly doubled. "Then do you know what they found?"

Mr Shanks leaned closer to the shelf and his voice dropped to barely a whisper. "None of them speak a word of it. They get a fearful glint in their eyes, so I never pushed. Whatever they find changes them. Tread carefully with this, Miss McGonagall," he turned to leave, but remained for a moment longer, "Oh and I have been asked to pass on a message from an old friend of mine. She asked me to tell you that the Weather Witches predict snow to fall on the twelfth, and that you would know what that means."

At the mention of snow, Minerva went very still and forced herself to ignore the highly irrational fear coursing through her body. "How can I come in contact with this _friend_ of yours?"

"You don't, she contacts you."

With that, he disappeared from sight, leaving Minerva to groan in despair and bite her tongue. _If that's the case, then she will never come to me! _

She sighed, rubbing her temples, trying to digest all the information she'd just learned. The alliance must have been extraordinarily useful to Galatea in her quest to hunt down her parent's killers, but beyond that, there was nothing useful she could glean from it. It was a start though, and now that she had a branch to climb on to, she just needed to find the next one that would lead to the top.

She would have to find a way to get into the Ministry's vaulted archives at some point, but that was probably not going to happen until the summer, or maybe even next year when the Seventh years take their annual tour of the Ministry. She let out a heavy sigh, realising that once again she would have to be patient.

_I really should be used to finding dead ends __after__ every corner I turn to by now…_

**December 12th, 1942:**

Rolanda rolled over in her bed, snuggling deeper under the covers as she woke. Even with the fireplaces lit, it wasn't quite enough to stem the bitter cold that had rolled in over night.

_Can you see outside?_ Minerva's voice echoed in her mind.

The hawk eyed witch let out a soft groan. She did _not_ want to move and Minerva's disapproval radiated from their connection.

_Just lift the covers off your face__, love,__ and look outside please. _

Rolanda groaned, but she did what Minerva asked her to. _What am I looking for?_ she narrowed her eyes. _I can't see a damn thing, the windows are frosted over._

She felt Minerva's emotions dulling as she sighed. _Nothing. Forget about it._

_Good try, Min,_ Rolanda thought crossly as she pulled the covers back over her head and relishing the warmth,_ but that's not going to fly this time. You've been tense since you got back from the hospital. What's going on?_

_Nothing to worry about,_ she answered. _It's just a superstition __and__ I am letting it affect me._

Hearing the rustle of sheets and Minerva's bed creek, Rolanda knew she was rising for the day. She felt Minerva subtly close their connection, just as she had done for the past several days, and it was making Rolanda increasingly uneasy. She threw off her covers and sat up, glaring at Minerva.

"Min, if you don't tell me what this is all about, then I shall be forced to form my own conclusions!"

The dark haired witch pursed her lips as she summoned the, currently dagger-sized, sword of Gryffindor from her nightstand. "Pipe down, you'll wake Gusta," she hissed. "It is nothing more than divination nonsense, just let it be." Rolanda shivered a little as she rose from the bed. She crossed her arms and glared Minerva down. "If it makes you feel better, then you can help me keep an open eye out."

"For?"

"Anything out of place, anyone acting strange, I don't really know. As I said, it is probably nothing to worry about." Minerva made her bed with a wave of her hand and changed their topic. "Have you heard anything from your mum as of late?"

"No, I haven't. I'm not even sure if I'm still going home for the holidays, but I've packed anyway." Rolanda watched as Minerva closed the clasp of the Time-turner's gold chain around her neck, then hide the device under her dressing gown. "It's hard to believe it's only the end of the first term. It feels like our second, or third even."

"I concur. A part of me wishes that this year could be over and done with. It's too bad the time-turner doesn't go-" Minerva paused with a frown and left her hand resting over the magical device. "Rola, I wouldn't normally say this, but for once I think I will be glad to get rid of this thing over the holidays."

"Why are you wearing it today, anyway? You have no reason too."

"Because I am sworn to keep it safe in my possession until I give it to Professor Dumbledore."

"Yes, I know, but why hasn't he done so yet? Doesn't he collect it after you finish your exams?" Rolanda questioned quietly.

Minerva shrugged. "He has a lot on his mind. Professor Dumbledore's been very busy since..." concern flashed in her eyes, "Actually, he's hardly been at Hogwarts at all this week except to monitor our tests. I don't mind keeping the time-turner safe for a few extra days if it helps lessen his work load."

Rolanda nodded, silently taking note of Minerva's selfless nature with the Deputy Headmaster. "Will you and Mikail still resuming the search for your memories over break while Poppy is still confined to the hospital wing?"

"Of course, why wouldn't we? It all went smoothly last time, there's no reason why the next will be any different. The seven day adaquel will of course need some planning, but it will all work out fine, and I doubt we'll reach it for a while. Mikail wants to work on that one last."

She had to admit, Minerva had a point, but after the recent Slytherin activities and with Mikail's connections still in question, Rolanda was still nervous. It didn't matter what Poppy insisted, she still couldn't bring herself to completely trust the Russian.

"All the same, Min, I would like to be there, just in case. So if I do leave with Mum over the holidays, please hold off on them until I get back."

Minerva seemed to consider this for a moment before she nodded. "Very well, I would rather avoid Poppy's disapproval if she ever found out that we did this alone."

After their showers, Minerva's strange behaviour seemed to be a thing of the past, but when they sat down to breakfast, Rolanda noticed that her eyes were constantly glancing at the windows and up at the ceiling. She was one of the few people not busy discussing their plans for the holidays. Even the staff members seemed to be enjoying themselves in chatter.

Someone told a joke across the table, but Rolanda was too focused on Minerva to hear it properly. Rolanda turned around to see what it was all about as Augusta's chuckle echoed in her ears, but that quickly changed. Without warning, the blonde witch gasped, dropping her tea cup on the table. Thankfully, there wasn't much liquid in the cup, just enough to soak Kevin's sleeve.

"Merlin's beard, Gusta! What the devil's wrong?" her boyfriend questioned. "There wasn't a bug in it, was there?"

"No, no," Augusta's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she waved her wand to siphon the excess tea from his robes. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have jumped. I thought I saw…" she trailed off as she pocketed her wand, her expression turning grim.

"Saw what?" Rolanda queried, her perusal of Minerva forgotten for a moment.

"Forget it. It's nothing," Augusta insisted, then muttered under her breath, "I never should have taken stupid Divination class."

Her response enticed Mikail's attention, "Vell, if it is so stupid, then vhy so afraid of telling?"

The colour from Augusta's flushed cheeks drained as she looked from Mikail to Rolanda, and then to Minerva. "The tea leaves… I- I thought they formed the shape of a skull."

Rolanda was about to open her mouth and round Augusta with another question, when she heard Minerva swear in Gaelic. She whipped her head around to see her sister wearing a mixed expression of mild shock and fear as she gazed up at the ceiling.

"What's wrong?"

Minerva uttered one word so softly spoken that Rolanda could hardly hear it.

"_Snow._"


End file.
